


The Very Long and not so Lucrative Life of Madej

by Raisans_Grapeon



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Angels vs. Demons, Angst, Animal Transformation, Battle in Heaven, Body Horror, Brotherhood, Demon Shane Madej, Demons, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Inside jokes, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rebellion, Slow Romance, Transformation, black magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisans_Grapeon/pseuds/Raisans_Grapeon
Summary: Shane Madej had been an angel once, but one too many pranks and next thing he knew, he was cast out of heaven. Now he and the Demons of Hell are locked into a tense war of souls, and more of his people are being slain each day, and the Devils have a job for him.-- Discontinued --





	1. The Very Fond Beginning and not so Bad End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for coming in for this piece of fiction. As always a few words to start.
> 
> I am not a professional writer, or an English major. I want to get better at writing, so please, criticism is encouraged and appreciated.
> 
> Also this is going to be a lot of Shane being young and stupid at first, but Ryan will come along, that I can promise you. 
> 
> Another thing, there are no OCs here! Secrets, yes, but no character is my original character(do not steal.) If anything there is just a lot of filler characters, but anyone who is directly named will have been something or someone already shown in the Buzzfeed Unsolved videos.
> 
> Okay, thank you and enjoy!

The human calendar had not yet existed when the angel was crafted from cloud, let alone the Earth. He was called to existence by the hand of God, and given a name; however, it was so long ago, no one could ever ask the angel to ever recall it after abandoning it for millenia. He was, later, referred to as Madej, so that is the name that will be used. He was simple, with shoulder length, chocolate brown hair, muddy eyes, and large, silvery grey wings. Madej awoke at the bottom. The lowest tier of angel there could’ve been. He didn’t quite understand what that meant at first. Instead, what he noticed first was the sky. It wrapped around the levels of clouds that cascaded upwards across the sphere of stars that Madaj could see. Nebulous gases in space scattered the light that came from almost every direction, and hit his hypersensitive eyes, allowing him to see the vibrant detail of galaxies far beyond his reach. He stood on the platform where he was born, dark brown eyes reflecting the wonder just outside the cloudy paradise that connected planets together. Eager to fly, the angel spread its wings to try to carry himself into the world. He fell back to the fluffy floor many times, but he was persistent, and insistent that if he could not learn by himself, that he did not deserve the power of flight. He was given no help, and the young angel had taken flight after an undetermined amount of time. When he did, Madej instantly set out to fly into the farthest reaches of the space he could see. A hand grappled his ankle before he could get anywhere. There was an Archangel, glaring up at him. It told him he couldn’t leave. 

 

Life drifted by in the wide and impossibly bright expanses of space and heaven. Higher Ups gave Madej orders, and he complied. It was unnerving, not having a say in what he did, and never getting a break just to soar around the endless space outside his designated area. It wasn’t all that bad though, the angel had thought at the time. After all, he had a friend with him. His name could not be remembered either, as he had been going by the name Otus for as long as Madej had. He was a sout, well build man, with a long dress like robe that was tied around the middle with a golden rope. He had a messy mop of white hair, his bangs having a tendency of falling in front of his golden amber eyes. His skin was a stark contrast to the white hair and robe, being a bit darker, almost a sunkissed olive. The wings he had were broad and an off white. Otus was quite a personality as well. He held a lot of the same mocking, and scrutinizing humor that Madej did, being made from the same cloud. But he had a bit more of a vulgar tendency.  Otus and Madej chattered in an angelic language, and cracked jokes as they worked. The Higher Ups didn’t care if they enjoyed themselves whilst they worked, in fact it was prefered. It kept up moral in heaven. So, Otus and Madej worked, their job being to document the construction site that was just between what would come to be known as Mars and Venus. God had unspecific plans for this new planet, but the two angels were not there to ask questions. They stood on the square of cloud they were birthed from, watching Archangels and Principalities drift through to check on progress and observe. They even caught sight of the occasional Throne or Seraphim. This job was truly nothing to insult. Though, there was a lot of record keeping. Their square had a white shelf erected on one side, where scrolls and scrolls of records were kept. Who came in, what time (in Celestial time), and when they left. They also had to record progress on construction, and it was all so mind numbing. This is when Otus and Madej’s first “crime” happened. They thought it would make it much more interesting to use vulgar language and jokes when writing the documents, thinking no one actually would want to read them. It was fun, and they had a lot of laughs and a few inside jokes like butchering the phrase “Love God” into ma deu, a phrase that can get either rolling on the floor laughing every time. It would take too long to explain why such a mishap had happened, or why it was so hilarious. 

 

Much to their surprise, and dismay, a Seraphim had come by one day to read the logs. The two angels exchanged a terrified look, and handed a scroll over to the highest order of angel with quivering hands. It read for only a second, and it lit up in rage. It screeched about their incompetence, and the disgrace they just committed against God. It had escorted the two angels to the stars in order to determine their sentence for such a crime. On the console was God’s favorite creation, at the time, Samuel Morningstar. The powerful entity eyed the meek, and mischievous angels with intrigue, and looked ready to say something whenever the rest of the consol talked over the angels. It was ordered that Madej and Otus be torn apart and made anew for the crime. Samuel was the one to stop his fellow brothers, demanding that they give the angels a chance at redemption, and let them go. Otus and  Madej were shaking in their robes, but thanking God for creating such an understanding, and benevolent creature such as Samuel.

 

Their next offence was a touch larger than the defilement of documents. When the usual lull of traffic commenced, Otus flew off station while Madej stood guard, ready to call back for Otus the moment he saw someone approaching. Otus was up a couple floors, where newly formed angels stood. They were waiting for instruction, innocently enough like the trouble makers had been once. Madej’s friend would scare the new recruits, and push them off the platform and they’d both be able to watch the new birds plummet into space, demanded to learn how to fly. Otus dubbed it an odd word that Madej would never have thought of at the time. He called it “hazing.” Whatever name they gave it wouldn’t matter. The Higher Ups were most definitely not pleased to be flying down to the platform and see that two angels were spiraling downwards into future Mars. Because Otus had frightened them first, they didn’t want to reveal who had shoved them off their platform lest they be tormented again. In a few days, they were escorted to their permanent position, and a single angel was crafted this time. It was female in appearance, tall, twiggish, her robe hanging loosely on her body. Her raven black hair reached her shoulder blades, and she had pastel yellow wings. It would be Madej’s turn for the next one as well since he only had one to haze. Otus watched keenly as Madej clung to the bottom of the platform, chest facing the red planet below. He began to claw his way up, rounding the edge and looking at the angel who appeared to be upside down to him. He made a strange, guttural snarling noise, causing the poor thing to shriek in horror, stumbling back frantically. Madej laughed almost hauntingly, before swinging his leg over the rest of the way, unarching his back and planting both bare feet against the new angel’s robe. He gave a powerful kick, and the angel was sent off, quickly descending. She swung her arms about desperately, hoping that they would grab any floating mass that might stop her from hitting the sandy red surface below. Her wings flapped uselessly, and Madej stood and watched, laughs coming out as wheezes. He clutched his chest like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs, enjoying every moment of the creature’s fall. 

 

Hazing has been going on for one rotation of the new planet, and the Higher Ups have started to get suspicious. All the shell shocked victims would give vague descriptions, but the two suspects always had another pair of angels that could easily fit the bill. There was no conviction, but the Higher Ups all believed that they had done it. New angels are now made down towards to be Mercury, too far of a trip for Madej and Otus to make since they had to fly over the new planet, and to be Venus. That didn’t stop them though. Madej came up with the next game for them to play. Pranks on the construction. Otus was eager to begin. Of course, they took turns as they did with hazing. They’d glide down to the new planet, survey the area, then wreak some havoc. The worst part for everyone else, was that they knew how not to get caught. They were experts at weaving the situations into unhappy accidents, and slipping right back up to their little slice of heaven, giggling madly. Angels trying to mold the core? Turn the fire back on and watch as the mold cracks open and all the iron spills out, spreading out into space and solidifying into an amoeba like shape, forcing them to start all over again. Archangels trying to give directions? Slip into the crowd and toss pebbles into their eyes. Principalities just standing, managing an area? Steel their crown and scepter and hide them in another angel’s robe. It was great fun, till Otus got caught. 

 

Otus had been throwing pebbles at a Throne, trying to get it through both hoops at once, and often hitting it in one of its eyes. However, one pebble he tossed flew through the Throne, who was desperately searching for the culprit, and hit a Seraphim directly in the head. It was unintentional, and made the angel freeze up, allowing the two Higher Ups to glare at him. 

 

Madej had been waiting up on his and Otus’ platform, hands pulled into the sleeves of his robe. Worry gnawed at his stomach, telling him that Otus was supposed to be back by now. In the distance, Madej spotted a Power approaching, causing a chill shoot through his spine. He prepared their warning signal, a single feather from their own wing, and called it to find Otus. He let go, and instead of the feather descending down to the new planet, it began to drift up. Madej could only stare in horror, murky brown eyes wide. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from his slowly ascending grey feather as it blended into the brilliant colours of space. He didn’t notice the Power was right on top of him till a large hand grappled the angel’s wrist and pulled it up to meet eye to eye with Madej. It’s voice was deep and gruff, but decidedly female, as she flat out told Madej that he would be coming with her. All he could do was tremble.

 

Once again, Madej was carried into the stars, and set before another console, this one being a direct console with Samuel himself. Samuel ordered the Power to leave him alone with the insignificant angel. The Power did as she was told, unable to retaliate when Madej made a face, sticking his tongue tauntingly. Samuel called Madej to attention, and he did, snapping his head up to probably one of the most powerful beings besides God himself, and alongside Jesus, a more recent creation that seemed to take more to his creator than Samuel did. Samuel informed him that Otus has been placed under arrest, and that Madej, if he accepted his incoming offer, could free him. Madej didn’t even need a heartbeat to pass before he agreed. He and Otus had been living together for forever. Ever since they were born. They were brothers in more ways than just two angels of the same cloud. Samuel chuckled endearingly at the lanky angel’s haste. Or it was Lucifer now. Lucifer, once Samuel -it would take a while to get used to that,- was planning on revolting, for his own selfish reasons along the lines that he was tired of Jesus being the favorite now, and if he wasn’t going to be the best, he would be the worst. Not the soundest reasoning to start a revolt, but Madej was behind him 100% if it meant getting Otus back. Also, Lucifer has been a big help in the past, and if the angel was anything, he was dead loyal. Lucifer was beyond touched by the angel’s dedication to him, and informed Madej that he already had an angel army ready to fight for him, and that the attack would be launched soon. 

 

By soon, he meant within what would come to be known as days. Madej had been aloft on his-their- cloud, kicking his feet as he stared into the abyss below. The stars twinkled, forever collected together. A distant, angelic battle cry could be heard, and a uproarious cheer that followed in suit. It was time. The call to battle had been sounded, making Madej kick off his cloud platform for the last time in his immortal life. 

 

The battle was chaotic. Light clashed together, somehow too bright for the very beings that radiated the light. Angels and Higher Ups alike fought ruthlessly, and often lost who they were supposed to be fighting against. It quickly dissolved into anarchy, holy beings fighting each other even if they were on the same side. In the beginning, Madej had fought valiantly, stealing a Power’s sword and setting out to cut his way through the battle to get to Otus. It was a lot harder than the young angle had ever anticipated, and it was more so the Higher Ups cut into him. Seraphims and Cherubims scorched and battered his body, while Powers and Dominions tried to cripple his wings. The fight was heavily out of the favor of the inexperienced angel amongst hardened Higher Ups. Madej resulted to self defense, pulling himself out of the frey and throwing the sword behind him as a futile attempt at showing that he no longer wished to fight them. He pressed himself against the wall of a scriptorium, wings drooping from the surprising amount of energy that was zapped from him during the entire beginning of the battle. His wings were damaged, several cuts were darkening the grey into a sickly black, and many of his feathers were scorched. His robe was starting to fall apart, exposing more burned skin, and deeper cuts around his arms and torso. After a breather, he surged upwards with strong and confidant beats of his wings, trying to claw his way up the sky to reach where confinments were. He… didn’t exactly know where it was, but he should know it when he saw it though, right? He looked below, and realized he had pulled past Saturn, and was approaching the stars. When had he lost track of the time like this?

 

An Archangel crashed into his side, digging a dagger into his abdomen. Madej cried out, hitting another cloud platform, tumbling on the fluffy flooring and hitting a column with his head. When rolling, his blood painted the clouds red, which spread through the floor and turned the cloud a light pink. The dagger had slipped out on the sudden drop, but the assaulting Archangel was already righting himself. Madej’s head throbbed and the stab wound surged pain throughout his side, his white robe quickly turning scarlet. The angel barely had time to register the bloody dagger coming down on him. Clearly this Archangel did not know how to use a dagger. Madej easily grabbed their wrist, holding the arm in place trying to keep the point away from his already harmed body. The struggle lasted for a few seconds before the silver winged angel pulled the arm off course, but let the Archangel carry themself into the floor, rolling out of the way and absconding at the earliest possibility.

 

Getting airborne again was a struggle, Madej’s wings starting to feel fatigue. Determination and confidence was whittled down to desperation. There were almost an infinite amount of cloud platforms above him, and he had started to admit that any structure could have Otus in it. Lights flashed from his peripheral as the battle creeped up higher. Platforms and buildings became soaked with the blood of all, and bodies dropped through the sky and through the limitless expanses of space, only to either fall on a platform, or down to one of the many planets below. From up in the stars, anyone could see the angels and Higher Ups alike fall like flies. Madej flapped his weary wings frantically, a firm grimace setting in. It was hopeless, till he caught a flash of grey, teetering on the edge of a cloud several soon to be miles above him. It was a ways away, but Madej could notice his own feather anywhere. He had called it to find Otus, and here it was. It meant that his brethren was inside the structure of clouds. The tired angel pushed his wings harder than he ever had, but their rhythm was still sluggish. His head and side pulsed painfully with each flap. Sweat formed on Madej’s brow, his energy petering out as one hand pawed at the edge, barely holding on. His wings gave, falling limp. He swung his other arm up, and strained his battered arms in order to hoist himself up on to the still white cloud, quickly dying it pink with each drop of blood that oozed out of his various wounds. Madej’s breathing was heavily labored, trying to catch some air as if it would fully replenish his energy. 

 

After a few tight, and painful moments, Madej called for Otus by his angelic name. A small voice responded beyond the redded walls of the structure with Madej’s own name as it once was. A heartbeat passed as both let out a sigh of relief that the other was relatively okay. Madej stood on shaking legs, and bloodied feet, staggering over to the structure’s entrance and opening the door. The thin angel held his side gingerly, and examined the room for his friend. Just beyond the surprisingly solid looking bars, there was Otus, who looked ecstatic to see his friend again. Of course, Madej was as well, but he couldn’t help but notice one detail. Otus’ wings were not there. At least, not anymore. The taller demanded an answer.

 

The stocky angel responded in a hushed tone, that they had clipped his wings off, as a punishment. 

 

Madej only needed a second to be sent into a rage that was so unbecoming of the prankster angel. He pulled and pounded uselessly at the bars, having none of the power needed to pull them open for Otus’ escape, but he still tried anyway. Tears unintentionally slipped out as the angel spat out curses and death threats to every Higher Up that did this to his brother. After a couple of strenuous moments, Otus calmly suggested that Madej look for a key to get him out. To no one’s surprise, the guard had left the key in a panic to either fight or defend God. That didn't matter to Madej. His best friend was safe, as safe as anyone could be in a war, but that was okay. They’d survive. They finally had each other again after all.

 

Still war raged, and Madaj pulled Otus along, hopping from platform to platform, shades of red getting darker the closer it all got. There were still warriors and peasants buzzing around the infinite field before them.

 

A loud and angered rumble shook heaven to its core. A deep, and commanding voice called all of his forces back to him, saying he could deal with this ordeal in one swipe. All who followed God flew back up into the bright light that was the creator of all. Of him. Of Otus. From where they both were, they could see Lucifer to step up and threaten the man who set up limitations for his creations. That was the moment of utter silence when a very large fist, belonging to God himself, was sent straight through the angel’s, casting a mass of them down through space, shattering through a crystal sphere as they plummeted. All but God stared in shock, and all but He and His benevolent followers started to cry, and run, including Madej and Otus. 

 

It was a triumphant failure, Madej could’ve sworn he heard Lucifer say as God’s large palm slapped more of the rebels through the hole in the universe. The brothers tried to find shelter on a platform, neither of them able to fly, whether it had been from mutilation or lack of any energy. They trembled in each other’s arms, eyes scanning wearily across the sky for the destructive force that would soon find them regardless of how far they ran. They were caked in blood at this point, much like the clouds of heaven. Not a single spot had been spared from the horrors or carnage. Seconds dripped by, and they both bowed their heads, their foreheads touching as Otus was cradled by Madej and their eyes slipped closed. There, they decided to name each other, just as Lucifer had named himself. 

 

The taller angel sniffed, and murmured horsley, “Otus.”

 

Otus smiled, and let out a hushed giggle as he whispered, “Madej.”

 

Otus and Madej laughed quietly, but joyfully, bright smiles on their faces as a shadow loomed overhead.


	2. The Very Hard Fall and not so Horrible Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels have fallen, and new aspects of life are being explored in the pit of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming in on chapter 2! 
> 
> As always criticism is encouraged and general comments and kudos are appreciated greatly.
> 
> Thank you and enjoy your read.

The world came into view once more, but it was no longer as Madej knew it. A swirling smoke bellowed above, and fiery reds reflected off of the thick clouds. Directly above, a gaping hole could be seen, showing the expense of space that once engulfed Madej’s whole world. The suffocating smoke poured out, cut up by the jagged edges of the hole. It was as though they broke through glass. There was even shards of the nebulous black scattered on the ground, amongst the bodies of fallen angels. Everyone had hit dark, hardened lava, many having broken something upon impact. Madej had broken his leg, and one of his wings. His stab wound throbbed, and his head ached as he presumably hit it again upon impact with the ground. In the distance, someone was talking over the hiss of gas escaping and the groans and wails of the injured. From what Madej could gather, it was the sound of Sa-Lucifer. 

Madej propped himself up with his arms, murky brown eyes, looking at the mass of 200 or so fallen angels scattered across the barren and steaming ground. Dark, reddish stone arched up, stretching upwards into the starless abyss above. Off on the other end of their lonely island, surrounded by hot yellowy orange lava, was abroad winged angel, with striking black hair in a haphazard mess. The grey winged angel could notice the benevolent face anywhere. Lucifer was hopping from body to body, whispering questions and assurances to each, pulling up those who could stand, and letting those who couldn’t rest. It reminded Madej that Otus had been smacked down along with him, and his head jerked to the side to search for his friend. In his haste, the angel had jostled his broken bones, and made him hiss in pain, face contorting into a grimace. 

“Madej.” The call was soft, but a hearty laugh rung out shortly afterwards, and the aforementioned angel chuckled as well. The voice came from the ground, where Madej could only see a mess of white hair draped over golden eyes. Otus hummed in the angelic language again. “I will have to get a different name to call you, for every time I say it, I will chuckle.”

Madej sputtered. “Well, perhaps naming me Madej was not your most well thought out plan, brother,” he mocked cheekily, with a smile on his face.

The smaller angel scoffed. “You wound me. Maybe I should have called you “Iniuste” or something vulgar!”

“Alas, your brain did not fair well in the moment, nor had it ever!”

“Curb your tongue, brother!”

“Curb it, I shall, but the truth will still stand even though it is unspoken!”

“I DEMAND YOU HUSH AT ONCE!”

Otus’ demand caught the attention of many of the fallen angels, along with Lucifer, who glared at the two. “No, I suggest you hush up, buttercup! I’m trying to aid people here. If you are well enough to yell, you are well enough to help me with our fallen brethren. So up and at it!”

Madej opened his mouth to retort, or complain he hadn’t decided yet, but Otus’ large fist hit the tall angel in his shoulder. “Best not to argue…,” he said softly, and heaved himself upright. “Let us make haste. I may have some damage on my chest, and my subs are irritated, but aside from those minor injuries I came out unscathed. How did you fair in the fall?”

In a huff, Madej tried to stand on one leg, but his broken one kept twisting painfully, and his broken wing lay limp, feathers scraping against the ground and picking up dust with them. “The fall was hard. My left wing and leg have been snapped, and the battle has left much of my body scorched and cut with a deep stab in my right side.”

Upon hearing this, Otus flipped onto his feet, grasping his taller brother’s shoulders. “Then you should not be moving! Lay down at once, brother. Later we shall think of a way to heal your wounds down here.”

Madej let Otus lead him back down to the rough and rigid rock, hissing and wincing all the way down as his friend tried to pull the fractured wing out. “Your bedside manner is unparalleled.”

“Hush, you,” Otus quipped, fully resting the grey winged angel onto the ground again. “We will figure out how to heal without the blessing of God on our side. I am almost certain that Lucifer would have had a plan for if an event such as this occurred during the battle” Madej only clenched his teeth, bringing his hands to his side. “I shall return.” With that, Otus took off to check on the other angels on their side of the rocky platform.

The haunting ambiance under the crystal sphere of the universe started to lull Madej to sleep. He never expected the smell of sulfur and ash to be such a soothing presence, but nonetheless, it did the job, and the fallen angel was dead to the world once again. As an angel, keeping vigilant watch on the activities of others, he and Otus were not allowed to sleep. They did not need it, per se, but the void of true nothingness that seemed to stretch from all sides entranced the young angel. Flecks of images started to fill the void, and coalesce into an environment. It was a wondrous sight to Madej as he was once more on the platform from which he was created. His feet wriggled through the soft cloud, remembering the tickle of mist on his soles. He could not see another soul around. Not even his brother, which the tall angel dismissed, thinking Otus was down on the new planet wreaking havoc. Space, which he learned recently was a crystal sphere, stretched around him brilliantly, stars popping off of their backdrop to dance with each other. Last time Madej checked, that was not how the stars worked. They were embedded into the sphere, that always seemed so far away. The flickering lights twisted and spun around each other in beautiful improvisation. One seemed to grow larger as it approached sole angel in the universe from the looks of it. The glimmer pulsed lightly, it’s white light welcoming as if it was asking the grey winged angel to hold it close and never let go. Madej sat on the cloud, leaning back on the shelf, arms bringing the light in close. It never touched Madej directly, but he could feel its limits, like it had a body he just couldn’t see. Its pulsing grew brighter, which Madej could only assume meant that it was happy, and smiled lightly.

A rumble shook the angel and star, causing Madej to look up. A crack had started to form in the crystal sphere of stars directly above him. The cloud he sat on turned a scarlet red, and soaked his robe in the hideous crimson. The star in his hands petered out, his arms falling in a bit once they had nothing to press against. Fear started to shoot through his nerves, and the grey winged angel stood from his platform, feet sinking further into the floor. Madej stumbled backwards, kicking up bits of cloud as he looked around frantically to see what was happening. Many stars repositioned themselves in the sky, but some seemed to be snuffed out, like a fire. Another rumble, and bits of the sky fell onto the red platform Madej stood on. He sank further in, and now at a constant rate. The warm red stained his legs and crawled its way up his body. His breathing became quick and shallow, his chest trying to collapse in on itself and crush his heart. Frantically, the angel tried to use his arms to push himself out of the cloud, but that only caught his arms in the floor, and began consuming them too. His wings pushed to take flight, but they were too tired, weighted down by some unknown force before they started to get sucked in as well. Terror gripped his heart as a loud snap rang in his ears, the platform he was slowly being consumed by dispersing in an instant. Madej plummeted in an instant, wings not responding when he tried to open them up to catch some sort of anything to slow his rapid descent. Instead, he watched as his feathers pulled away, drifting lazily without him. He felt each one pluck away with a sharp pin like pain. The angel tried to scream, clawing at his last chance of survival but he couldn’t make a sound. Soon, the very muscle and skin around his wing’s bones tore away with a sharp and searing pain that wouldn’t go away. He still couldn’t cry out for God to save him before he crashed through the bottom of his universe. Madej let out a sob, tears abandoning him as well as his fall was about to end, with fists full of feathers, and barren bird bones hanging uselessly.

The impact with the crystal sphere below pushed consciousness back into Madej’s body, his back arching as he gasped for air. His arms and legs shook from the shock, and his eyes were blown wide open, not seeing the billowing smoke above him. The trickster's chest heaved, gulping in breaths like he hadn’t breathed in millennia. He blinked blearily a few times till the image of smoke and stone came into view. He could no longer see the jagged edges of the shattered sphere above him, making Madej think that he must’ve been moved at some point. There was chatter, but one unmistakable voice called out above the rest. “Mad! Maddi, are you okay!?” 

Madej squinted as a figure passed over his vision. It was Otus, but he looked it. He had a small white beard, and more hair on his chest that poked out of a brand new black toga, clasped together by an ruby embedded golden clasp. “Otus…? I-... Wait. That name that you just said, did you refer to me as Mad or … Maddi? Tell me if had heard you correctly.”

Otus gave a cheeky grin. “For every time that I hear your name that I have foolishly bestowed upon you, I cannot help but let a chuckle out. So, to remedy this, I have taken it upon myself to use a sort of ‘nickname’ so that I might take you a bit more seriously sometimes!” 

“Alright then, Otus. I’ll let it be,” Madej said with a soft smile that still held an odd unease.

A silence fell between them, till Otus shifted to put his arms under Madej’s back. “Let us get you upright. What were you doing while you were asleep? It didn’t look very pleasant.”

Madej let his friend guide him up, noticing that his body was covered in torn cloths that got the hint off blood seeping through, along with his leg being held in place by two stone looking rods and cloth again. He also took a silent note that he was naked, probably so that Otus could tend to his wounds better. As he leaned up, the wound in his side stung and his entire body ached from the short but strenuous battle. “Whatever it may have been, it most certainly not intentional, for it was horrifying.”

“Well, what happened?,” Otus pressed, growing more concerned for his brother.

“It was a vision, of sorts, but not of events I have no knowledge of. It was almost… a memory, if my memory had been warped terribly into a sickening reality that borders surrealism,” Madej explained, brows furrowed in thought. “I was back up in heaven, but I couldn’t see a single angel or Higher Up. It was just me, on our platform. There I stood, when a magnificent sight unfolded. Stars strayed from their place in the sky and began a dance. One approached, and I held it close.”

Otus hummed doubtfully. “Maybe the hit to your head scrambled you, for that hardly sounds horrifying.”

“You didn’t let me finish!,” the grey winged angel snapped, sighing. “Then, there came a rumble, that shook the very sky. I looked up to see the universe beginning to crack. The star in my arms died, as did many others that had drifted from placement, while some found their way back in the sky. The cloud turned red, and it stained my robe, and my feet with a scarlet red, warm like blood. I stood when the next rumble came, and the sky above started to fall. I began to sink into the cloud, covering me in red. My wings were too tired to get me out.” He sucked a breath in as the now familiar creep of the red on his skin came back. “When the cloud had taken me up to my shoulders, it dispersed as the crystal sphere broke. I fell, and my wings started to fall apart till it was bare bone.” Madej looked up at his brother. “Is that horrifying enough now?”

Otus swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. But it poses some questions.” He sat next to his taller friend in thought. “There was no way that was a prophecy, and that was far from memory…” Madej just nodded along.

“It’s called a dream. Or rather, a nightmare.” The deep voice of Lucifer cut in. “A side effect of sleeping, I’m afraid. Think of it as your brain playing God in an infinite landscape. It could create anything, whether you want to see it or not.”

Otus nodded, interested, while Madej looked a bit surprised. He had expected Lucifer to take a bit more of a Godly role down there, detached and “holier than thou.” But he stood before them, as humble as ever, simply talking to a couple of low lifes. 

Lucifer seemed to catch Madej’s staring, smirking lightly. “Something the matter? Did you lose your tongue?”

Madej stuttered a bit before forming real sentences. “Well, it’s just… you are… what are you doing, talking down here with the angels? You are, I’d assume, the new God of our faction, so shouldn’t you be doing… something else?”

The notion made Morningstar laugh heartily. “Pulling away from one’s subjects is what caused the unrest in heaven, Madej!” The two angels giggled a bit. “Plus, I have revoked any status I might’ve held back in heaven. Now, I am the same as you, Otus, or anyone else down here.” Madej was a bit jarred, surprised by the down to ground he was, but it felt nice. "Also, you two are dangerously hilarious. Of all my recruits, you two were the most troublesome, so obviously I have to keep an eye on you, just so you don't find yourselves in any serious trouble." Nice feelings were replaced embarrassment.

“I had been conversing with him for a bit while you were sleeping. You were out for quite a long time, to the extent that plans for a government house has already been set and is currently being constructed by those able bodied,” Otus filled in, grabbing his bare feet and rocking in place. 

The taller angel hummed lightly. “So, how long till I will be able to aid the other angels?,” he inquired, eager to do something other than sit and watch.

“It will take a white for your broken bones to heal, now that the blessing of God is absent in our lives,” the stocky white haired angel half muttered, a bit bummed about Madej’s circumstances himself.

Lucifer interjected for a correction. “And, we are no longer angels, for that is long behind us. We, as a consensus, agreed that we are Demons.”


	3. The Very Painful and not so Graceful Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relearning basic survival skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once more, as always critique is welcome as well as any general comments.
> 
> Enjoy

“Alright everyone, welcome to Black Magic Class. Since we all have lost the blessing of God, this is mandatory for all of us to learn.” Lucifer spoke to a medium sized crowd of about 50 Demons, who all sat on the barren rock, looking up at their leader with a mixed bag of eager and concerned. They were all amongst the injured, all swaddled in bandages in various areas, many with severely damaged wings. Towards the front, Madej sat with his broken leg stretched out in front of him, his murky brown eyes trained on the grand figure before him. Otus and all the other able bodied Demons were off still constructing the government building somewhere over the distant lava pit. From what Madej has seen of the newly named “Hell,” it is a lot of lava and rocky islands. Then again, he was toted around by various capable angels, and none of them were too keen on moving him. Not that they didn’t like him, he was just a mess to move with his leg and wing and his long ass limbs. Madej sighed softly and shifted as much as he could without disturbing any of his injuries as Lucifer kept talking, starting to pace in front of the crowd. “Black Magic, is the force that exists outside the crystal sphere that God created. Now, Black Magic is the reason he created the sphere in the first place. It is a defense mechanism to protect his creations from this power. This power is destructive to those who don’t know how to wield it. Even then, it distorts the soul, and in our case, our natural forms.”

In the middle of one of the pauses, Madej rose his hand. Lucifer caught sight of the hand in his peripheral, and pointed to the long Demon. Madej cleared his throat, and asked, “If this magic has always existed, then why have I never heard of it before?” There was a soft clamor of agreement across the mass of Demons. 

The leader stared at them, waiting for the noise to settle before speaking up himself. “It is because, you never had a need to know. God saw it best that you did not know of what lay beyond your borders, and so you were ignorant.” A new chorus of grumbles and yowls of outrage rung across the crowd. Madaj was among the few who remained silent, but he couldn’t say that he wasn’t peeved. Lucifer still lifted his hands to hush the Demons again. “No need to get fired up by events passed. We need to worry about the now. Now, we need to channel this power that surrounds us. If we don’t, the power will consume us. Though, as mentioned before, channeling the power seriously distorts the soul, and in turn, our forms. The distortion is not pleasant, but neither is being consumed by a ruthless force of unbridled power.”

One Demon cut in with no respect, not even thinking of raising their hand to interject. “Why should I, or any of us kill ourselves? Surely if we apologize to the Heavenly Father above, we may get out of Hell and remain under his judgment without the risk of self mutilation?” The Demon had risen up out of the others who sat in complatency. It was female looking and her pearl hair was like silk, flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes were a stoney grey, glinting defiantly in the vibrant orange light the permeated throughout the realm. Madej glared subtly, but mainly keeping his shoulders squared forward. 

Lucifer looked startled, eyes wider than usual, but he righted himself quickly. In a calm, even voice, he addressed the only other standing Demon. “Well, ….” He paused uncomfortably, urging the white haired demon to pin a name to her taut face.

“Kelfer.” Kelfer’s voice was like a snake bite, filled with a strange sort of resentment. 

Morningstar cleared his throat, fixing his old, torn toga. “Well, Kelfer. I highly doubt that God will be taking us back after revolting against his rule. It would also take too long to get us all back up. We have been able to hold off the Black Magic for now, but each day it bites at us, and the protection we had as angels will eventually deteriorate completely. Once that happens, you will be gone within hours.” 

Kelfer was not satisfied. She started to step around the masses of Demons, her feet thumping hard against the black rock. The tension in the air was palpable, threatening to choke everyone within a mile radius. “And who’s foolish idea was it to revolt against a being that protected us?! You knew what was out here but you encouraged us anyway!”

The leader’s inky black wings flared out behind him. “You chose this. If you were content being on the ass end of the bureaucracy, then you should’ve never joined the battle.”

“I didn’t know that only death lay beyond the sphere! You did nothing to inform me!” Kelfer had breached the front row, stepping around Madej’s leg as she approached the toned Demon. Her sickly yellow wings were tied to her torso, both having been broken when she fell. “I will not participate in your blaspheme anymore. I will attempt to get back up to heaven.” She pivoted on her heel to face the 50 or so Demons, who’s eyes have now all fixated on the rebel amongst rebels. “I know we can survive without mutilating ourselves. Those who will follow me in this quest to return to safety once more, raise your hands now!,” she called to the Demons, arms spread wide to invite all to follow. 

“God will not take you back. You rebelled for a reason. You rebelled because you did not fit in with what God thought to be the perfect world. He does not want you back. Try as you will, but it will only lead to your demise.” Lucifer kept his voice level, but his fiery orange eyes glared at Kelfer.

The Demons who still sat all shifted uncomfortably, each chattering with each other to work out what was the best bet for them. Madej didn’t need to converse or mull it over. He had his mind set. Lucifer had helped him every time he and Otus were convicted, and helped the taller Demon get his brother out of prison. He owed everything to Lucifer, and Madej wouldn’t think about betraying him. 

However, there were some who didn’t hold the same sentiments. A mixture of hands popped out of the sea of faces, scattered across the crowd. From what Madej could count, there were 13 Demons who wanted to crawl back to God’s feet. That was not including Kelfer. Those who could stand, did, and those who couldn’t were aided by the able bodied who were already standing. Kelfer smirked, confident in those who had stood up. She glanced back at Lucifer, her smile as wide as ever. “I’ll be back for your other lessons, if you don’t mind.”

Morningstar narrowed his eyes, but didn’t shoot a response at her. “That is perfectly fine, Kelfer. As long as all of them get to hear both sides in order to make their own decision.” Every word was pointed, emphasizing his desires. 

Kelfer didn’t acknowledge Lucifer anymore, sauntering off, hopping across lava rock islands with an angelic grace. Those who could fly, did so, while others limped and lumbered after her, all chattering amongst themselves again. The remaining Demons looked up at Lucifer, unsure of what he would do next.

The black winged Demon cleared his throat, and straightened his back to regain some professionalism. “Well, let us continue.”

The lesson went on without a hitch, and ended with Lucifer instructing the group on how to safely immerse oneself in Black Magic. Madej was being flown back to a structure made out of the black stone all around them. It was a home for the severely injured where they could rest and sleep to try and speed up the healing process. As he was being carried across the molten lava landscape, Madej caught sight of the next class either jumping or flying their way over to the larger island that Lucifer still stood. Amongst the herd of Demons, Madej could see his stout brother, expertly hopping from stone to stone, not concerned about falling into the steaming hot magma the flowed all around him. The taller Demon couldn’t help but stare and smile, knowing that his brother was going to be okay, if this was showing anything. Within moments, Otus was too far away to see clearly, and Madej was only a few yards away from the shelter. Delicately, the 3 Demons that were carrying Madej back rested him under the stone roof, against one of the walls. “Are you comfortable there?,” one asked, one of the the shorter ones with broad, baby blue wings. 

Madej nodded, smiling. “Yes, this is good. Thank you all for the aid.” With a fond wave, the three flew out, presumably to see if anyone else needed some assistance. Once they were out of sight, Madej observed the room. Many of those who were there were already reviewing the ritual they were taught at the end of the lesson of the day. It was fairly simple. Just an incantation while they were sitting, connected to the ground. They had to repeat the incantation till they felt the power fully within them, and Lucifer promised that they would know when it was done. It spooked Madej slightly, but as he sat, he fought off every fear that he had about what could possibly happen. With a deep inhale, Madej opened his mouth and began the ritual. In a second, the grey winged Demon felt something pull up from the ground he sat on, and snake it’s way into his body through his feet. It felt invasive, and Madej almost stumbled over his words. Despite it, he kept strong, chanting the words to himself as his eyes slid closed and his face scrunched up in concentration. He couldn’t hear the bubbling of the lava outside anymore. The soft voices of his fellow Demons fizzed out, but Madej couldn’t tell if they had stopped talking, or if he had stopped listening. His words were consistent, spilling out on autopilot as the Black Magic continued to seep through his body. It crawled up his spine and pooled in his stomach. The force gripped his muscles and flooded his lungs until it swirled up into his head, but it still wasn’t done. Madej continued to chant, but the force that began to over fill his body pulled at his voice, his words coming out strained and choked. Still, he continued, as stopping wasn’t an option. 

Soon enough, the power was pushing at his skin, and tearing at every fiber of his being, and the Demon knew, that he had did it. What he didn’t expect, was the splitting pain pushed against his temples. Madej stopped muttering in favor of screeching, as the pressure broke the surface, and pulled out of his skull. He bent over, the pain in his side no longer a problem as he gripped the sides of his head. From what he could feel, there was new bone pushing out of his head, covered in blood. His breathing was labored in between his cries as his eyes remained screwed shut, trying futally to press away the pain. Before the bone could finish growing, the power within pulled at his arms and legs, stretching his bones and muscles out. His broken leg bent with the force of the pull, all the effort of keeping the bone aligned falling apart in an instant. The Black Magic spread out in his wings, and brought back a haunting feeling. His feathers began to fall out, the prickling sensation from Madej’s nightmare returning. He cried out, his voice sore from the screeches that kept tearing at his throat. His ears could hear the way his voice layered, almost as multiple people were screaming, but they all sounded like him. The pressure in his head dulled as the bones protruding from his skull finished growing, along with the pull on his limbs, but the hurt never lessened. The meat on his wings began to deteriorate, the rapid rotting searing his nerves as if they were on fire. All the support for his broken wing dropped, and the bone hung where the crack was, but the rest of the wing still hovered in place. a sickening orange ooze began to seep out from seemingly nowhere, replacing Madej’s feathers. His tailbone grew, piercing through flesh and skin as his muscles raced to cover up the exposed skeleton that began to pull out of the Demon. A new round of cries rung out, his chest and lungs heaving for air to give more sobs. The bone extended out for 3 feet before stopping, and the skin and flesh caught up, covering the newly formed tail with ebony black scales, a few hook like spikes sprouting from the end.

The dust settled, and the pain subsided. Every bone in his body shuddered with each inhale. Madej pulled his hands away from his head, and opened up his murky eyes to stare at black tipped claws that had replaced his fingers. They were long and sharp, like thorns. Every move of his new digits made the unnatural hooks clang together uncomfortably. His eyes widened, taking in the black tips fully. His eyes traveled up his arm, noticing that it was significantly longer than before. Something hit the floor, that wasn’t the blood trickling down the side of the Demon’s face. It was clear, and sizzled away from the steaming rock. Madej gingerly brought one of his clawed hands to his cheek, letting the point scrape delicately under his eye. He could feel tears, though he couldn’t remember when he started crying. 

Voices broke in, making Madej’s head snap up to see a crowd around him. Many were aghast, while there were some who had came in close, resting gentle hands on his shoulder and chattering softly, trying to calm him down. Finally, he registered their words. “Madej, Madej! You need to take deep breaths! Come on, with me! In-” The Demon went along and inhaled. “And out.” He followed, his exhale shaking a bit as his chest still rattled. 

They went with it for a minute till Madej cut in. “I’m good… I am okay now.” His voice was raw, coming out like he was being strangled. He cast his terrified gaze across the mass of Demons that had come to observe. “How bad is it?” It was a silly question. If how he felt was anything to go off of, he looked terrible.

“Well…” the Demon that had aided him afterwards, who had soft brown hair, and small, forest green wings, spoke carefully, stepping carefully. “You look… in all honesty, you look evil.”

They all let the bomb shell hang for seconds on end, all fully aware that looking evil was one of the worst things that could happen to an angel. Another from the crowd cut through the silence. “I’ll get something to clean up the blood.” 

With that, many of the Demons dispersed immediately, only one leaving the hut to retrieve cloth. Only a hand full lingered for a few moments longer before they shuffled away, almost scared of the sight before them. Madej rested his back against the wall again, feeling the stone scrape against his bones uncomfortably, and his side bit, but he didn’t mind anymore. The horror continued to take deep breaths, closing his eyes but not sleeping.


	4. The Very Unfortunate Consequences and not so Brilliant Retaliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God does not want you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey welcome again.
> 
> As always, critique is encouraged along with just comments on your thoughts and kudos as well are always greatly appreciated
> 
> Thank you and enjoy

About 2 days have past. Slowly, more and more full fledged Demons could be seen in a sea of faces, and less fallen angels. Feathers were gradually replaced by bone and a weird, thin ooze, that acted as a membrane so they all could still fly. It wasn’t uncommon to see stray feathers drifting in the updraft created by the heat, and eventually burning up in the lava. A variety of horns could be seen now. Some were short, no bigger than nubs, while some were extravagant, bending and splitting into intricate branches. Others were thick, and powerful, and some as thin as silk. Madej’s own horns came from just above his ears, not wide, but not especially thin. They pulled up, then back a short ways before pulling up again to taper off into a point. Behind them was a second set, much shorter, but followed a similar pattern. Soon enough, there wasn’t a fallen angel to be seen. Not even Kelfer and her followers. 

No one knew where the band went after recruiting as many as they could, making a grand total of 173 missing Demons out of the headcount of 417 that had initially fallen.. They disappeared somewhere far off, into the smog and smoke. Many had assumed that they died after only a day out beyond, but no one knew for sure. If they did, Madej figured, they would never know. Their bodies would not linger if they failed to get into heaven, and if they managed to get back into good grace, then they would never dare to venture back down under to gloat. It would remain unsolved to everyone but God. No matter what, it was 173 lives lost.

“Maddi? I apologize for interrupting your angst brooding, but I need to change out your bandages.” A vaguely recognizable guttural voice announced from behind the lanky Demon, making him turn his head around to confirm his suspicions. Otus stood on sturdy black hooves with white bandages and pads bundled up in his arms that some of the other Demons had created from their practice with using the Black Magic. Madej’s brother had gotten surprisingly shorter and stockier than he already was, his legs now bent in an unusual way that made it look like he was always ready to jump. Fur had sprouted everywhere on his body except for his face, all remaining a uniform white. His horns were thick, rounding back and around to the front again, tapering off gradually. His pupils had stretched, now a weird, horizontal oval. His little beard on his chin grew, and fur had begun to grow on his jawline, but the patches never connected. 

Madej didn’t respond, silently straightening out his back and lifting up his arms so that Otus could remove the bandaging around his stomach. Most of the shallower cuts had scared up, while the burns still needed to be replaced as well. 

With an uncomfortable hum, the furry Demon tore the bandaging off from his brother’s stab wound, eliciting a sharp hiss and a harsh, but playful swipe from his black tinted claws. Otus ducked, chuckling lightly as he continued on, pressing a fresh pad into the wound. Madej wasn’t bleeding anymore, but they kept pressure on just in case. Silence endured as Otus hopped from wound to wound, exchanging pads and bandages, and checked the new splinters that were set up on Madej’s wing and leg. Soon enough, the short Demon cut the silence. “Maddi. You look concerned.” 

Madej didn’t give an answer immediately, mulling the words over in his head before formulating something to say back. “Perhaps I am. Although, I would call it… curiosity at best. I have been wondering about the fates of Kelfer and her followers. Don’t you ever think of what such actions would lead to?,” he asked, head turning slightly to cast a glance over his shoulder to his friend. Madej could see Otus’ golden eyes from behind his thick white hair as they glinted with thought. “It’s very possible we will never see them again. Haven’t you ever thought about what happened?” His inquiry held the faintest hint of worry.

Before Otus could toss his opinion in, a rumble came from above. The smoke coating the ceiling above them started to part, and the sky cracked. Ungodly screams and pleads sounded, coming from an unseeable source. Otus’ mouth was agape, a question stuck in his throat, but Madej answered it as if it was already out in the air. “They failed.”

The sphere broke, a mass of 173 angels plummeted to Hell’s surface. It was an odd sight when the Demons of Hell were the ones stationary. All of the fallen angels looked like broken dolls, limp and mangled. A few happened to flip themselves around, spreading their feathery wings out and catching air and smoke to slow their descent. They pulled back, looking as though they stood still in time while their brethren fell to the lava. Their fortune flipped quickly, as a different object shot out of the new hole in the crystal sphere. It was too far for Madej, or anyone on the surface to make out, but whatever it was collided with the fallen angels that were drifting down. It didn’t seem to do much at first, but in a snap, the object yanked the fallen angels downwards. More of the objects hit those who could not, or wouldn’t open their wings up against the current against them, and pulled them downwards as well. Otus saw this as a sign to leave, but couldn’t move. The stocky Demon crouched down lower, pushing Madej down with him. His brother groaned in pain, but Otus couldn’t be gentle at a time like this. The shorter Demon did his best to shield his brother, golden eyes scanning the sky for the hint of danger that was sure to come. 

How unfortunate, that the danger came from the ground. 

Thick, iron cuffs broke through hardened magma, red hot, and clasped around Otus’s wrists. The cuffs were connected to the ground by chains that pulled the small Demon to the ground. One more cuff broke out, trapping Otus’ neck. He let out a screech as the burning metal jangled and pressed against his skin and fur, charring the hair and searing his skin. Similar screams and wails cracked out as Demons were chained to ground. Madej’s eyes flickered wildly across the landscape, watching helplessly as chains and cuffs erupted from the ground and trapped his people. At that point, the fallen angels had made contact with the black stone below, successfully trapped down with them. Many who could take flight did, trying to fly away from the ground, but the cuffs seeked their wrists and dragged them back down again, caging them. Some tried to run, but were dragged across the ground once the cuffs found their mark. He pressed his hands against the ground, standing on one leg. It hurt, but Madej had to do something. He sure as the Hell he lived in wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing. Still, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t attempt to fly away like some were, or run. The only plan that came to mind was find Lucifer Morningstar, and see if he could do anything to free them all. 

In that moment, large bird bones with silvery black membranes stretched across the sky as Lucifer pushed upwards, trying to outfly the cuffs. He artfully weaved through pillars of stone, and dove close to the lava’s surface, baiting the chains into failing. Morningstar’s control in flight was beyond admirable, being absolutely stunning to watch the way the soft yellow glow of the magma reflected against the Demon’s figure. In the end though, Lucifer didn’t have a chance at escaping. The cuffs grappled his wrists. the chains taut as they tried to yank the leader out of the sky. Still he fought against them, wings flapping large and strong, competing in a power struggle that ultimately ended in the cuffs winning, throwing Lucifer to the ground again. 

A crack from below called Madej to look down to see the glowing iron cuffs snaking upwards to ensnare him. With an odd calm crashing over him, the Demon resigned, sinking gently down with the cuffs, whining softly when the iron constricted and pressed painfully into his wrists and neck. His side and leg throbbed to layer the pains, but he stifled most of his cries. There were enough calls of anguish in Hell. He did manage a strangled cry for his brother, eyes snapping to his side to see Otus pressed against the warm ground, his cuffs already cooling down. 

Otus strained, and pulled himself up so that he was only slightly hunched over, sitting on his knees. He casted a glance over to the taller Demon beside him, eyes fully hidden from plain view. “Are you okay?” He was trying his best not to let his voice falter.

Shaking his head, Madej muttered, “Not really. I don’t think my leg will ever heal if all this excitement doesn’t stop soon.” He tried to keep his tone lighthearted and joking, but it did little to mask the menagerie of emotions that swirled chaotically in his head.

The furred Demon gave Madej a small chuckle for the effort, though it was quickly followed by a hefty sigh. No more was said between them, the iron now cooled, but tight around their new burns. Scattered across the hellscape, Demons were hunched over, stuck in place. Many could be heard calling out for friends in desperation or fear. On an island near by, the group of fallen angels were chained up in one area, their wings out in full display, a reminder of who they all used to be. Their feathers twitched ad rustled in the passing heat winds. Many of the angels cried, despair crashing upon them once their only hope for normalcy was crushed in one fatal swoop. 

A head of unmistakable pearl hair lifted up from the crowd of angels, many locks tainted with ugly black from the dust that coated the ground. The cuff on the yellow winged angel’s neck struggled to keep her chest down in a bow. The strong, defiant voice that belonged to Kelfer was broken, and raw when she pleaded out, “Lucifer! Anybody, please! Help us! How do we survive!?” Silence responded graciously. Not a single soul gave her an answer, resentment and anger directed at Kelfer and her followers. Everyone knew that they were the reason this had happened. Without a word spoken, the Demons agreed to make the fallen angels pay for the crime they committed against the denizens of Hell. Kelfer didn’t give up. “Please! We’re going to die!! You have to help us!” The Demons all bowed their heads and cut the angels off. “Why won’t you help us!?,” she asked, a sob cracking out at the last word.

Madej replied this time, figuring they at least deserve a reason. “You turned your back on us, and chained us to the ground like filth. You did this to us, and you shall face the consequences of your crime.”

“With our lives?! That’s absurd!,” Kelfer shot back.

Madej refused to give more, bowing his head with the rest of the Demons. The silence that fell after that was heavy, almost suffocating. No one dared to speak, lest they slip up and accidentally save the fallen angels.

A day passed, and the hole in the sky had gradually closed up again, replaced by stone pillars and smog. The angelic chatter came back between the Demons, but it was hushed, and secretive, with side long glances over at the fallen angels, who kept to themselves as well. Madej acquainted himself with some nearby Demons while keeping close to Otus. There was one that the brothers became particularly fond of. A bruly Demon that held a threatening presence, but acted more like a child. Her name was Uada, but she insisted on being called Sallie. Madej didn’t see the correlation, or why she would even introduce herself as Uada, but then later say that she wants to be called Sallie, but he could never get a straight answer out of her. She was sly, and mischievous with a mind like a steel trap. She was large, with long, ebony horns that spiraled up to a sharp point. Her hair was short and blond, and her eyes were a haunting pitch black. Her tail was bulky, thick with muscle and covering in black, thorny spikes, and her wings were impossibly large, with a dark purple, slimy membrane. If it weren’t for the chains holding her down, she would be a force to be reckoned with. 

During Madej and Otus’ time with Sallie, she decided to give them nicknames like hers. Madej asked why this was a thing, and she only said, “It might come in handy later! You never know!” The brothers couldn’t deny that. Hence, she gave Otus the name “Steve,” and Madej was “Shane.” They tried to ask again, where in the wide world of Hell she came up with these odd names, but she kept tight lipped, and brushed them off constantly with a deep, haunting laugh. Shane and Steve couldn’t help but laugh with her. 

Another day, and everyone noticed something. The fallen angels had stopped talking. Many Demons had loosened their chains enough to lift their chests up and move their arms a bit, allowing them to look over the angels’ island of isolation. Their feathered wings were limp, resting on the dusty ground with no care at all. They all looked drained, and tired, many fully laying on the stone while those who were still holding their chest up looked like it took too much energy to do so. Rumors broke out, ranging from it was a guilt trip to the Black Magic was finally taking them. Madej personally believed that this was the end for the fallen angels, and watched intently, waiting to see what their deaths would look like. 

It was slow. The fallen angels continued to lose energy, collapsing to the ground one by one. Their eyes were hollow, and sunken as their bodies started to wither. None of them said a word, or made a sound. Feathers molted, but never regrew till there was nothing but barren skin. Muscle deteriorated, the skin loose on their bones. Their eyes were empty now, glazed over without a spark of life left in them. Madej guessed that at some point, their brains had rotted with the rest of their muscles. The skin peeled away from the bones, often blowing away in the wind. The bones, however, remained, never to be erased. The cuffs and chains were still linked around the wrist and neck bones, loose and twisted. No Demon spoke during their deaths. There was a deep respect behind the silence, all eyes on the bodies. No one knew if the angels understood what they were trying to convey, but there was going to be a lot they didn’t know now. There was no use dwelling on it. One Demon suggested that they leave their bodies there, as a reminder, and as a memorial. They all agreed wholeheartedly.

The Demons, however, were still trapped. Not many found use in trying to struggle with the chains, seeing as some of the strongest Demons couldn’t pull away with brute force. Others started to experiment with the Black Magic, trying to figure out if there was a way they could use it to break the cuffs. Unfortunately, the farthest they had learned was shifting the rock to create new materials. Occasionally, a Demon would mess around too much and there would be a soft boom in the distance followed by cackles of laughter at the failed attempts. Sallie, Otus, and Madej all decided to just converse amongst each other, knowing eventually, they’ll get out. 

Eventually was just around the corner. A blinding flash of light broke out, and following it was the broad wings of Lucifer, cuffs still clasped around his neck and arms, but chain severed from him. The Demons of Hell looked up, wide eyed before cheering in joy, including Madej, Otus, and Sallie, who all leaned up in their chains and did their best try at clapping, which irritated their burns on the cuffs, and Madej tore up his own hands with his claws. Morningstar hung in mid-air, arms wide and he took a large bow, eating up the attention he was receiving. Even from afar, Demons could see his wide smirke that curled up wickedly. His hands lit up in a fiery orange, and dove down to the surface to start freeing the other Demons. One by one, the creatures arose as well, either flying, standing, or just straightening their back to show that they were okay. Everyone was adorned with the same silvery grey iron cuffs and chains as they cheered and celebrated. One swipe, and Sallie, Madej, and Otus were freed, given a clear view of Lucifer’s crooked grin. The very sight of it made Madej laugh almost maniacally. Sallie and Otus stood up to their full height, Sallie being a whole 2 feet taller than the 4 foot flat midget Demon. Both looked to the crippled Madej in confusion. “What’s so funny?,” Sallied inquired in a childish manner.

Madej leaned back, setting his leg straight again and hoping nothing happens this time that will make it fall out of place. “Lucifer has a plan for some justice against God.”

The idea excited Sallie and Otus greatly, spurring them to take off in the direction Lucifer flew, Sallie by flight and Otus by hoof. Madej chuckled to himself, shaking his head and stayed put leaning back on his clawed hands and looking off to observe the spontaneous gathering that took place across the nearest lava pool. Lucifer projected his voice out, commanding attention. “Demons of all shapes and sizes! This disgrace thrust upon us by God should not, and shall not go unnoticed, nor forgotten! He has tied us to the ground, thinking of us as unruly and uncivilized; yet we were never this. We are more than what God is determined to believe. Many of us here have a talent in the practice of Black Magic, and some are formidable fighters. Others are intelligent, and can solve the problems that violence cannot. Together, we can construct our own life where the sun doesn’t shine. Here, we will make our own sun, and our own light. Still, God will detest our independence. Still, he will chain and beat us, be we shall get up. We will fight back. This day marks the beginning! The beginning of a new race, a new life, a new war. A war of numbers and sin A war where our blood is not spilt, nor the blood of angels. Above us, a new planet has been molded as a home for God’s newest creations. From my time beside him, I can safely discern that these creatures will be loved by God more than the angels are. This is where we can strike back. The creations, that God has called humans, are just as holy as we once were, and consigned to heaven. If we can make them sin, as we apparently have, we can tear God’s precious humans away from him. We can enact revenge against the Father who has abandoned us. We can stand victorious in the end of this war that we all started with the battle in heaven without another life lost! We are strong without God! We are strong because of our wits! We are strong!”

The speech elicited an uproarious cheer from the crowd. Hands and claws clamored together his thunderous applause and hoots and hollers overcame the noise. Lucifer bowed again, fully setting into the role he played in the lives of the Demons now. The spirits of Hell were as bright as the magma floors, setting into motion a sense of nationalism amongst those who lived under God’s universe. Madej did little more than smile in the back as he watched, detached from the celebration, and discussion. He couldn’t lie and say he was disappointed that he wasn’t chipping in. Politics weren’t his thing. He’d much rather languish about, cracking jokes and pulling pranks. He wanted to indulge himself in a way that heaven never let him. Madej officially decided that he would dedicate his life to chase this ideal while Lucifer took up the task of making humanity fall, disappearing into the smoke clouds. The lonesome Demon blinked as the last of Lucifer was sucked into the black, a wave of deja vu hitting him, accompanied by a bad feeling. 

Something deep inside Madej told him that this wasn’t going to end as many of the Demons expected.

Days dragged in hell. Demons were buzzing about, flying in and out of a newly finished Pandamonium, it’s walls gilded and the halls large. Madej’s bones finally began to heal, his wing able to do small movements and be out of the splinter, and his leg being well kept. He hadn’t moved from the spot he was freed from, because he was too nervous about disturbing his leg further. It wasn’t terrible. Sallie and Otus spent a lot of time around him, and a few Demons passing by would stop and drop in on him throughout the day. It got Madej acquainted with the rest of the Demons enough to know names and who to look out for from either meeting the dangerous characters or hearing about them. The tall Demon also passed the time by practicing and experimenting with Black Magic. He got as far as being able to spin illusions, and transform parts of his body, but that was tiring to say the least. It was a good pass time for him while he was grounded, and he was working on transforming both his hands back into regular hands when a neat, deliberate hole stretched open, and Lucifer descended back into Hell again. The moment the first Demon saw him, he called out to everyone that Lucifer had returned and Demons swarmed out of every nook and cranny to huddle around their leader. Madej still didn’t move to getup, but he took a deep sigh of relief, glad that nothing bad was going to happen this time.

Off in the distance, Lucifer regaled his tale of heroism, and success, flaunting his ability about as if he was the best there ever was. Sallie and Otus struggled to hear his story over the chatter of the other Demons. From what they gathered, Lucifer made his way onto Earth, and tempted to make humanity fall by getting them to break the only rule of eden, which was not to eat the Fruit of Knowledge. It wasn’t the most dramatic story, but the Demons ate it up, especially since Lucifer gave humanity awareness, so he was helping humanity. Humans would thank them later, they hoped. 

It was all well and good for a while, till a weird sensation creeped up the spines of all the denizens of Hell. The voices hushed, looking at each other in confusion, some muttering out questions that no one had the answer to. Madej looked at his hands, confusion written all over his face. Even Lucifer couldn’t explain what was going on.

In a snap, all the Demons felt themselves compress, and a puff of cloud surrounded all of them. There was no pain in what was happening, and many couldn’t figure out what was happening amidst all the white smoke. A lot of the angels who were flying fell to the ground, hitting the stone with their stomachs. The dust settled, and everyone got a good look at each other. 

The Demons of Hell had been effectively turned into snakes, varying in size, length, and build. Madej was a long, thin snake, with black scales and a yellow line running down his back and red scales lining his sides. It was like he was put into a tube, unable to move his arms and legs independently. He could shift his entire body to wriggle forward. Madej silently thanked God that his tail was in tact and didn’t carry over the injuries from his leg. His skin was looser, shifting over his body in a strange, but oddly satisfying way. His eyes were wide, and the world seemed a whole lot bigger now. With his newfound maneuverability, the long snake slithered across the stone, stretching himself across the cracks in the floor that suddenly felt like chasms and valleys, where one false move could mean a very painful, fiery death. Madej’s wide pupils surveyed the area, noticing the writhing pile of snakes off where Lucifer and the Demons once were. His tongue flicked out, tasting the air, before he set off again, passing over large distances and climbing mountains to get to where his brother and friend surely were. As he got closer, Madej noted that there was a lot of hissing from the pile, presumably from all the Demons wondering what was happening. The striped snake slithered over another hill and came face to face with his brethren, who had all started to get off of each other and curling up into their own lonely pile of themself. Madej slipped down, trying to see if he could identify his friends, but that was near impossible. He didn’t even look like himself. Next resort, calling out to them. 

Madej lifted his head up, and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was just a low hiss. He tried again, and there still was nothing. What would’ve been a sigh was another hiss. Madej couldn’t wait for this shit to be over.


	5. The Very Ruthless Night and not so Peaceful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madej has officially inserted himself in human society as Shane Madej, and Lucifer needs to utilize that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming in for another chapter!
> 
> As usual, criticism is encouraged, as well as general comments and kudos.
> 
> And Ryan is officially introduced. Finally, am I right?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

After a few days, all the Demons had been returned to their normal forms, for the most part. They contracted a side effect that left patches of scales on their skin, and a large black ring that circled around the Demon’s necks, the outer rim being covered in long spikes. The Demons could only guess that the ring was to be a visual warning for humans, but not many minded, and figured out how to cover it up as well. Hence, they resumed their schemes. Schemes evolved into jobs, which built a stable Oligarchy in Hell. Lucifer sat as the head of the operation in Pandemonium, with a counsel of five of Hell’s best and strongest. The six who ran the happenings were dubbed Devils, out of respect for their superiority. Hell developed residential areas around the government building where all the Demons lived, while the rest of Hell was forged into a pit of suffering and torture. There was always a place for every soul with their own tailored tortures. The Demons were assigned to a corner to deal out the punishments or they were sent to Earth to gather souls and drag them down to Hell, also ordered to try to tempt passing humans to sin. Souls would have time limits set upon them based off of the severity of the deeds. Those who did not believe in God, far off in limbo were given no time, and left to wither away peacefully. Most murderers were in their corner for 5-15 years. Though, there were some who were given an infinite amount of time in Hell, and were consigned to be punished for eternity, never given the release of disappearing from the world for good. Bottom line, Hell was well organized in structure. The residents, however, were free range. Demons were known for skipping days of torture to go up to Earth for fun, coming back after a short amount of time while some straight up ditched life in Hell and lived on Earth till they were killed. That, however, was not a very well supported decision, seen as a suicide among the Hell dwellers. If a Demon stays out of hell for too long, their body starts to react negatively as the Black Magic in them strains to connect with the source. The Demon would lose control of their magic, and they would become irritable to the point of being driven insane by the slightest occurrence. It was at that point where the humans would kill the Demon, accusing them of a menagerie of things, ranging from being a mythical creature that must be killed for glory, or in retribution for any crimes they committed in their delirious state. Leaving Hell for good was never a good idea, period. 

Despite the often gruesome tortures that had to be done, and the dangers that lay within the universe, Madej lived a placid life under the crystal sphere above. He healed up eventually, though he had a limp in his left leg due to the countless times it was broken from place. His left wing had a thin crack where it had snapped, which made Madej nervous about hitting the lowermost bone against anything, thinking that the fracture would spring back up again. The stab wound healed up without much fit, though the Demons who initially treated him weren’t the best and didn’t stitch up the hole, so Madej had a hole in his side. It was fun to play around with sometimes though, so he didn’t think much of it. Once he was sure Madej was fully healed, Lucifer sent lanky Demon out to the workforce, rotating him to a different job every month or so, as the leader did with all the other Demons. The tall Demon lived with his brother in a quaint, hut style house, right next door to Sallie, who lived with Alka, another, more ruthless, Demon. They were more keen to take up higher torture jobs, rather than the others that required more survalenece than torture. Sallie, of course, had come up with a peculiar name for Alka as well, being dubbed Emily. If Madej was being honest, he was surprised that the strange name Sallie chose didn’t start with an S. 

Lucifer was also, surprisingly prominent in both Madej’s and Otus’ lives, sticking to his word that he would make sure that the two wouldn’t get into too much trouble while they still lived. It was daunting for Madej at times, having such a powerful figure watching his every move, but Lucifer, for the most part, played it chill. He treated the brothers like family almost, even when it came to them living up to their reputation, which they did every other day. They’d pull pranks on Lucifer’s meetings with the Devils, mess with the Demons just trying to do their job, and start wars on Earth. Some of their worst offenses in Hell was letting the murderers loose who killed 5 demons and 3 random souls in the area, and using their magic to make all the souls disappear for good.That was how they lost the soul of Jack the Ripper, who was supposed to be spending the rest of his afterlife being tortured. Whenever the worst of their terrible mishaps would happen, Lucifer would rechain them to the ground and have Demons torture them for 50 years. Because of this, Madej and Otus were never allowed to remove the clasps around their wrists and neck. The brothers didn’t know if they were supposed to be learning a lesson at this point, but after so many years, it was apparent that whatever lesson they were supposed to be learning, was never going to be learnt.

After almost 4.6 billion years of life, Madej was living his best life he ever had. He managed to squeeze his way into a quaint little family on a continent humans called North America, who happened to have his name as their last name. He made use of the name Sallie provided him, and made his first name Shane. It was a match made in Hell in his opinion. Spending the day lights in his human home, and night time back down in Hell, doing his duty and wrecking havoc wherever he could, never daring to go asleep. It appeased him, and actually cooled his mischief, while Otus was as wound up as ever, being summoned and tied to some random ass bridge in North America as well. Madej always said that maybe he would find out where he was, but while Otus was on Earth he couldn’t go anywhere else, and thus had no bearings, and was illiterate in English, unwilling to learn.

Shane Madej’s two worlds juxtaposed each other greatly. Under the radiant sun, life had a rhythm, often making him drift into boredom, but not like that was a terrible thing. Good souls were a joy to be around. He truly felt it was a shame that he never got a chance to get any such souls downstairs, but he always guessed they didn’t deserve that, ever. He enjoyed childhood, and practiced his mannerisms, but could never quite get his emotions down. It lead his human parents to take him to a psychiatrist to see if there was a reason he didn’t seem to respond to anything. The Doctors could never pin it down to a mental illness, and said it just might be his personality, which was the truth, but Shane still was unpleasant to be around at times due to his apparent lack of empathy. Down in his true home, everything was cast into a different light. There was a drop of red in it, that carried evil with it as every plot of land was taken over by those who did not know of a moral compass. It was exciting, toying with his prey and sticking people in the heart over and over, but got tiring quickly. So many tried to escape and he always had to run them down and drag them back to resume torture. Like any workplace, there were always those who got too into the job, and didn’t have an ounce of morality themselves. Madej played pranks, but he did it in good taste except for a few times where he overstepped in a fit of passion, like the little incident with a certain Archduke. Each realm had their pros and cons, but they balanced each other perfectly, and Shane Madej lived in bliss, ignorant to the future. 

Madej was taking a quick break in his and Otus’ hut, lounging in a hammock bed that hung above a persian rug he had stolen from merchants a while back, it being one of many little trinkets of history the brothers had about their home. He was in his “Hell Clothes,” which was a white toga clasped with an amber stone, his human watch, and clear framed glasses that he needed to see after billions of years of aging. As he swung lazily in peace, a sharp knock hit the rickety door. Madej’s eyes flicked to the door, eyebrow cocked in curiosity. With a huff, the Demon swung his bare, callused feet over the edge of the string hammock, standing up and cracking his back. The chains that hung limply on his wrists beat his back and sides as he walked up to the door which was only a few feet away, and swung it open to see a large, dark demon with broken horns, only stubs protruding out of his forehead. Much of his skin was covered in glossy black scales that blended in with his skin and could only be seen when the light reflected off of them just right. The Demon on Madej’s doorstep held a piece of paper, looking down to read it. “Madej, you are summoned by His Satanic Majesty. He asks that you go to Pandemonium immediately, and be prepared to go back up to Earth when the meeting is over.” The messenger looked back up to make eye contact with Madej. It was almost adorable, and reminded the thin Demon of the times little kids from certain youth organizations would ring on his human parents’ doorbell and awkwardly ask them if they would like to buy cookies or some shit like that. 

Still, this entire situation left Madej fairly stunned. Lucifer often enjoined the trickster brothers for a meeting when they did something, but last time Madej checked, they hadn’t done anything yet. And even though it was hard to tell time in a place where there is no sun, Madej still had his human watch, and it said that it was still night time. 1 in the morning in fact. He usually “woke up” at 6:00 so he could go to work at a Walmart in Chicago as he searched for jobs to do with his film degree he got recently. To sum it up, this was highly unusual. “Uh… yeah sure… I’ll just go right now,” Madej said quickly, stepping past the messenger without looking back up. The Demon stepped out of the way, and took off, presumably to give more messages while Madej spread his own, slimy orange wings and took flight. 

Madej flew low, dodging the taller houses as he headed towards the center of what the Demons guessed could be called a city. Pandemonium was fairly large, probably larger than it needed to be, with columns lining the outside walls and even more columns on the inside, all covered in a thin layer of gold. The roof was lined with friezes, regaling the history of Hell, with a long stretch of blank, gilded stone that waited for time to pass. Madej took a dive to the ground, rolling to a stop when he hit the obsidian black rock. His wings fluttered a bit as the tall Demon stood, favoring his right leg as he walked stiffly up to the entrance of the government building, and pushed the grand doors open. The shimmering doors groaned with unseen age, and Madej’s steps on the glossy tiled flooring echoed in the foyer. The ceiling extended upwards to an indistinguishable end. The room funneled any visitors to another door, lined by more columns. Lucifer was in a weird phase when he was planning this building out. Madej walked forward, strides were wide, covering a long distance in one step. He pushed the next set of doors open, and there was another hall that had doors on either side, each one leading to an unknown room. Madej only cared about going forward. The longer he strode down the hall, the more his apprehension grew. His stomach flipped, and the Demon started to fiddle with his toga that was carelessly draped over his body. His wings crunched in on themselves and Madej fixed the clear framed glasses that had been hastily thrown onto his nose. He looked like an emotional wreck with a rough shadow of a beard and messy hair, despite him shaving the sides and trimming the top just yesterday, but he didn’t think much of it as he pushed open the last set of doors.

In the next room, was a large, marble table, with six decorated marble chairs positioned around it. Lucifer sat in his designated chair, the back of it facing Madej, but he could just see the Devil’s arm and the side of his face with his styled, raven black hair. His striking orange eyes seemed to burn holes into the lesser Demon’s soul. The menacing figure arose from his seat, his bird bone wings expanding in a display of power. He wore a tailored, black suit with a crimson tie, and goat skull shaped cufflinks. Lucifer straightened his back and squared himself so that he was fully facing Madej, towering over the Demon easily, even when he was in his true form. Despite the threatening display, Madej looked sangfroid as he greeted the Devil.

“Wassup, Luci?”

Lucifer glared down at Madej with narrow eyes for a second, before dropping it in favor of letting out a soft wheeze that was only assumed to be a laugh. “You realize this is supposed to be serious, right?,” he asked, trying to regain some composure. 

Madej just shrugged flashing a toothy grin. “I know, you just looked like someone shoved a stick up your ass. I needed to release some of that tension. So, what do you need me for?”

Sighing, but still smiling, Lucifer raked a hand through his black hair. “I need you to find a guy for me. A guy on Earth.” As he talked, the Devil grew more somber. “This war that I started billions of years ago is tiring, on both sides. I keep sending Demons up to make humanity sin, and they send angels down to prevent such things. Back and forth we go and… well, you’ve been collecting before.”

Madej nodded. “Yeah. It got pretty cutthroat up there whenever I met an angel along the way.”

“Exactly. Our numbers are limited, and there is a real threat of a full out war out there if either side makes the wrong move. In all honesty, we, the counsel, are worried sick.” Lucifer let out a long breath, closing his eyes. “I need you to go up there and find a link. Think of this guy as a wifi hotspot for the supernatural. The angels upstairs are bound to be watching over him, so if a Demon gets within proximity, then someone is bound to come down to see what the deal is.”

“So you want me to go negotiate a peace with heaven?,” Madej cut in, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Well, not the whole peace, just ask the angel to relay a message back to God, saying that Hell wants to negotiate a peace. Us Devils are too busy to find this person ourselves, and you are already have a solid facade up there. You could get close without alerting him.” Lucifer’s reddened claw hands moved about to accentuate his point. “Can you do this for Hell?”

Silence hung in the room, weighing on the shoulders of the occupants. Madej, for once, hesitated. Angels, while just messengers, were dangerous like cheetahs. Beings of light were fast, and unpredictable, and could inflict some serious damage. Even if Madej could ward off the attacks, angels had an entire heaven behind them, and a regenerable army. Hell had limited numbers, still consisting of those who initially fell, and the occasional angel that would crash through the roof. When Madej met with the angel, if they called down reinforcements, he was sure that Lucifer wouldn’t give a single soul to fight the battle with him, and Madej would be dead. It was enough to hold the Demon back for a few heartbeats, but logic kicked in just in time. He figured, there would be no better way to go out. “Okay. Who am I looking for?”

Lucifer let out a relieved sigh. “Good. His name is Ryan Steven Bergara.”


	6. The Very Short Search and not so Sneaky Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for a very small boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back to another chapter
> 
> As usual, critique and general comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy

Shane opened his eyes to gaze up to a white ceiling. It was still pitch black outside, drenching every corner of Shane's small apartment in a comforting shadow. He lifted his arm to gaze at his watch as his eyes adjusted and the blurred edges because sharper. First thing the disguised Demon discovered was that he was not disguised. He saw his smokey black scaled forearm and ebony claw fingers. The silvery watch was like the moon against the midnight sky on his wrist. Shane sighed and furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, watching the scales slide seamlessly under a thin illusion, and his claws pull back into blunt, soft fingers with flimsy, bitten nails. With a soft sigh, Shane actually checked the time on his watch that now hung on soft, pale skin. It read 3:54.

A huff of air passed past Shane's lips, dropping his arm back to his chest. His hand fiddled with the rough, old, fabric of his toga that he had made billions of years ago. It served him well throughout the ages, though it was a bit revealing for the modern age, his right nip open for any interloper to see. It wasn't a big deal in Hell but the surface world didn't appreciate it too much. It made him long for his days he spent with the Romans and Greeks. He still had clothes of the modern age, which was surprisingly stylish to the Demon; so he unclipped the cloth and set aside the gemstone embedded clip on top of his dresser. He unraveled the toga, and pulled open a drawer and exchanged the toga for a black and red plaid shirt. Pulling out a drawer below the one he had open, he selected a pair of jeans to slip on before he decided he was ready to begin his search. Humans would say 4 o’clock is not the time to be doing research, and that Shane should sleep, but that was an activity he would rather avoid. 

With the drone of crickets outside, Shane placed his laptop on his bed and he opened a web browser. His fingers found the keys with ease, and shot off to type “Ryan Steven Bergara” into the search bar. The only thing that came up that was worth noting was the link to a website called “Buzzfeed.” From what Shane had heard amongst the internet, Buzzfeed was particularly known for quizzes, but did Youtube videos as well. The Demon figured that if needed, he could get in for a producing job there maybe, whether they were looking or not. But that all depended on whether or not Mr. Bergara worked at Buzzfeed.

All the evidence came up inconclusive. Obviously, this Ryan fellow wasn’t quite a big shot yet. Of course he wasn’t because if he was, that would’ve made Shane’s life so much easier and Hell knows that no one is aiming to do that. He returned to the main browser and sifted through other links, all of them changing the name just enough for Google to think that it had relevance. Shane sighed and rubbed his face. “Welp. I guess this Buzzfeed lead is all I’m getting. Fuck, how long have I been doing this?” He lifted his pale arm to look at his cheap watch. It read 4:20. Shane fell backwards onto his bed, hitting his head on the wall. “Fucking blaze it,” he mumbled, irritated and mentally tired. The back of his head stinged as he stared off to the other end of the room. Work was hours away and he could only return to Hell once every human week for a report, which Lucifer assigned to Sunday when he would wrangle the problematic Demon brothers in to keep them in check with dinner, drinking games, and bets. So, Shane was effectively stuck on Earth. He supposed he had a whole world to explore, but he didn’t want to ruin any of his shirts with his wings, or be flying around over Chicago in a toga. He clicked around on his computer, specifically on the Buzzfeed website, and started to apply for an internship there. 

It was a done deal within days, and by Sunday, Shane was packing up his apartment to haul ass down to California. Family and friends were shocked by how quickly it all had happened, and Shane didn’t have the heart to tell them that he had pulled out some strings to ensure he got in. His parents wished him well and demanded that he call them every once in a while, and he promised that he would. It was exciting, and Shane was filled with an odd childish glee. He had always loved the West, especially during the frontier days and during the Gold Rush. The lawless vigilante justice reminded Shane of home, and the Boom Towns were always ripe with souls to collect. Of course, the Demon was aware that it wouldn’t be like that now, especially since he was going into the big city for the internship. It would definitely be a change of pace, but he was confident in his ability to adapt. He did one last sweep of the empty apartment. There was a box of clothes and sheets, a box of decorative kitchen supplies, a box of trinkets from throughout the ages, and furniture that he would be taking to the studio apartment, including his dresser, his desk, and a chair. Satisfaction bubbled up in Shane’s chest. The only thing he had left to do was wait for the sun to fall so he could open a portal back to hell to give his report and have the check in dinner. 

To pass the time till nightfall, Shane scrolled on his phone, still sifting through different platforms to maybe find his man and solidify his theory that he was working in Buzzfeed. The most he found was a two year old instagram page filled with photos of the man that would, hopefully, help ease tensions between heaven and hell. He looked like a fucking dweeb, and Shane loved it. Bergara even looked like “Asian Kanye West” at one point, his words, not Shane’s. Shane felt like he was going to enjoy this job. 

The last warm hues of sunset dipped below the horizon to enchant someone else, and now all that remained was a star studded sky. In the thick of night, Shane picked up some leftover chalk on the bedframe and walked up to a barren wall. He tossed toyed with the piece of stone in his hand and prepared the quick pass to Hell. Halfway through etching a satanic passage sygile, the Demon realized that he had packed up his Hell clothes with everything else in a race to hide it from his friends who had been helping him pack up. He was still dressed in his plaid shirt and jeans, and disguised in human skin. Not able to do much in the clothing category, the least Shane could do was let himself go, except the wings and tail. He let out a sigh that he seemed to be holding all week, and his limbs grew, stretching the 6’4” human out into an 7’8” Demon, and the scales sprung up again. His fingers pulled out, sharpening into a killer point, and horns emerged from his temples. The dark ring around his neck faded into view, and his shackles dripped back into reality. Shane let out a relieved sigh, feeling like he just ripped off an incredibly stuffy blanket. Now, he forgot to take into account that his height would make his human clothes way too small for him. Then again, Demons don’t really care.

Finishing off the etching in the wall, Shane muttered some quick words in a incomprehensible language and the room seemed to darken more than it already had. The wall began to warp, pulling and twisting in an unnatural way. The house groaned and creaked as the drywall tore open. What was on the other side was not the apartment of the poor soul who lived next door, but Hell sweet Hell. It dropped right off into Shane’s hut, an overwhelming sense of ease breaking against him. He stepped through the opening, and let the wall seal up behind him, leaving only a sygile as a testament as to what happened. Madej didn’t care that much about anyone who might see his demonic handywork. He wasn’t living in that old place anymore. Resting bare feet against his Persian rug was a comfort, massaging his toes against the fibers. 

“Woah, Maddi, what are you wearing? You look like a stripper with all that skin tight clothing!” Otus’ gruff voice called from his end of the small hut in Old Angelic. He was chilling on his own hammock, hooves kicking in the air. All the Demons in Hell spoke Old Angelic, while their sister language that was spoken in heaven evolved into something no one in Hell could understand anymore. Slipping between the two was easy, though Madej had a few slip ups sometimes.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Madej mocked, squinting his eyes and nodding his head in an effort to rub his brother’s fur the wrong way. “Like you’ve ever seen a stripper.”

“HEY! I have loads of humans passing through every day, and I hear a lot! So don’t go insinuating that I am uncultured!”

“Says the Demon who can’t read.” Madej shot off the low blow with no remorse.

“I am very smart in Old Angelic, and you know that! Just because I can’t read the humans’ garbage language doesn’t mean that I am less than anyone else!,” Otus refuted, dropping to the floor with a soft thump. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get moving, Goat boy.”

“It’s GoatMAN!”

“No offense, but you are as tall as a 3rd Grader. Hardly a man.”

“I may be short but I can wrestle your ass anyday, Twig Legs!”

“Later, Otus. We have an obligatory dinner to attend to.”


	7. Chapter 7: The Very Successful Meeting and not so Smart Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission Accomplished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you for coming in once again!
> 
> Again, any comments and critiques are welcomed!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Life in Buzzfeed was an honest joy for Shane as he and Ryan went up from interns to producers. The atmosphere reminded him of his home in some ways, being surrounded by a variety of characters that leaned more on the chaotic side of the spectrum. There was always something going on, whether it be someone floating on mashed potatoes or people trying on high heels; the latter of which Shane graciously participated in. The lively energy in the office was intoxicating, and Shane would often share stories of his days there with any Demon below that would listen to him. The Devils always asked to see the footage of some of these events during his weekly report, even though the reception in Hell was abhorrent. Life was the best it had ever been for Shane. Especially with Ryan.

 

Ryan was so much more than the disguised demon had ever expected. They clicked together in moments, and a mission from Hell got majorly derailed. Constantly, Shane forgot to attempt contact with the angels the very moment he laid eyes on Ryan. It was like he had an air about him that muddled with Shane’s senses and scrambled his thought process. Contact was supposed to have been made within the first week of Shane’s internship, but in the Demon’s defense, he never got a chance to do so without anyone, including Ryan, knowing what was going on. Some suggested that he just let Ryan know what was going down, because the moment the job was done, Shane wouldn’t be seeing the small, toned man again.

 

That was where those Demons were wrong. After around two weeks with the human, Shane had gotten attached. And how could he not? Ryan was... Ryan. Ryan would talk extensively about theme parks and cold cases. Everything that spilled out of the shorter human’s lips was musical, like hymns Shane had long since forgotten. Just by looking at Ryan, the demon could tell that he was one of the big man’s best creations. Intellectually and physically. The moments where they’d brush past each other, or lock arms to goofily skip off into work threatened to make Shane unravel completely, and show Ryan everything in gruesome detail. 

 

There were days Shane forgot he was an unholy spawn of Hell. He’d forget he was Madej, Lucifer’s number 1 problem, and bringer of mischief and misfortune. He’d just be Shane Alexander Madej. A son, a brother, a friend. A human. Night would fall though, and Shane would stay up, on his computer, eating whatever was in the house, whether it was edible to humans or not. It would all crash upon him again that he didn’t belong. He couldn’t even stomach a wink of sleep. What kind of human can’t take power naps? Ryan might’ve pulled all nighters, but he always found time to pass out in the break room or sleep for 12 hours straight at home. Often times, during the night, Shane would take short trips down to Hell just to keep his torture quota up, and scheme with Otus for a bit. Then it was back up to the surface, wash, rinse, repeat. 

 

“Shane! What on Earth are you thinking about over there?” Ryan cut through Shane’s thought process. The Demon didn’t even realize that he was completely ignoring Ryan, and basically everything. 

 

The two of them were at their desk, both going over some of the final footage for videos that they helped produce. Ryan was almost done, while Shane had, apparently, spaced out halfway through his own portion. He caught a glance outside. The sun was setting. Fucking heaven.

 

“Shane, for five minutes, could you not stare off into the distance? If I didn’t know better I’d think you’re having a midlife crisis.” Ryan had snapped Shane back again, making the man cough uncomfortably.

 

“Oh no I had that long ago. But uh… What were you saying?” The Demon did his best to slip back into reality with as little fuck ups as possible.

 

Ryan didn’t mind, repeating himself with an annoyed lilt to his voice. “How far are you with the video?” His eyebrows pulled up, almost anticipating Shane’s answer.

 

“Uh well…” Shane’s voice refused to answer. 

 

“Mhm. Yeah.” With that, Ryan was focused on his own screen again.

 

Confusion quickly morphed Shane’s face. “You… weren’t talking to me?”

 

“No.”

 

Shane gasped dramatically, holding a hand over his heart. 

 

Ryan let out a breathy laugh, eyes squinting as his smile pulled up on his cheeks. “Actually, I just remembered.”

 

Shane let out an inquisitive hum, perking up a bit.

 

“I’m working on a new Unsolved video, but Brent isn’t really interested in the supernatural, so I need a new co-host for the Supernatural bits. I was thinking that… if you wanted to, you could come one and sorta, test the waters.” Ryan’s voice was careful and soft, prodding only a bit to get some intrigue.

 

Shane blinked, the first thought coming to mind being, Hell yes, more time with Ryan! Following closely behind was the thought saying that this opened up more opportunities to make contact with the angels, maybe if they managed to get each other alone, and Shane could catch Ryan sleeping. It didn’t take much consideration to convince him. “Yeah, definitely!” He didn’t care if it was too eager.

 

“Good.” Ryan smiled wide, the edges tugging up to try to reach his ears. “I know you don’t believe in ghost and demons or conspiracy theories like that, so there won’t be too much changing in format.”

 

Shane blinked. When did he say he didn’t believe in ghosts? Or Demons?The smaller man was right about the conspiracy theories as the Demon had voiced his opinion on them quite often whenever the subject came to light. But the two former ones? Ryan really needed to watch his wording because Shane believed in himself very much. 

 

Then again, Shane did take that improv class back in college. Maybe he could work with this.

 

“Yeah. Because there isn’t any proof whatsoever that they do exist!” Shane could back that up. Most of the proof that humans got was very weak. “And those theories are completely outrageous,” he added on for good measure.

 

“There is proof!,” Ryan shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Shane. “Just you wait mister, you’re gonna be eating your words soon!”

 

Shane just let out a knowing chuckle, side eyeing his friend as he moved to get back to work. “Sure, buddy. We’ll see.”

 

The day at the office ended fairly quickly, and Shane wasn’t done with the bit he still had to review. Ryan had long since left as did everyone else. The Demon was sure that the security had already locked up the building as the night crawled along. It didn’t matter if Shane stayed back late. He was planning on taking the weekend off in Hell anyway. Spend some quality time with Otus and cause some havoc. His screen casted a blue light across his face, showing off the faint, smokey black around his cheeks and eyes that had just started to emerge. 

 

The office was still as Shane worked, his magic faltering as his ebony black scales pushed up to the surface of his skin, surrounding his eyes and coating his forearms. He didn’t mind, not worrying about anyone seeing him. The AC whirred to life, droning on in the background as the Demon finished for the night. He snapped his laptop shut, pushing away from the desk, only to hit a body behind him. 

 

A body. Shane’s heart dropped. Time might as well have stopped because Shane’s heart sure did. The air became thick with tension, stuffing the Demon’s lungs full of cotton. His face was frozen in schooled, blank slate, but his mind refused to be as calm as he was letting himself on to be. It was the end. There was no recovering from this. His scales were out on full display. What excuse could there be? Make up? Yeah, that’d fly especially since Shane didn’t have it on during the day. So, this was it. It was over. Now someone in the office knew. The Demon slowly turned his head to see just who had found out.  

 

What he saw, was an image, as old as the Earth itself. Guarenteeably older. The figure of a person Shane never thought he’d ever see again, but one he could never forget. It was an angel in all of their sickening radiance. It was female in appearance, tall, twiggish, her robe hanging loosely on her body. Her raven black hair reached her shoulder blades, and she had pastel yellow wings. Behind her head was a golden disk of light. She was radiant, but her light would not illuminate the room, only her. 

 

“You come here often?,” Shane almost breathed out in Old Angelic. What in the world were the odds. As the Demon gazed into her striking crystal white eyes, he could see a similar recognition on the other end. Strange, he never realized that her irises were white.

 

The angel straightened herself out, gripping the collar of her robe with a purpose, but she made no move to say anything. 

 

Eager to keep the silence at bay, Shane continued on, trying to elicit a response. “If you’re still mad about that whole cloud thing, it’s been almost 4 billion years. I think that’s plenty of time to get over it.”

 

“We both know that’s not why I’m here, demon.” Her voice was hushed, but deep, speaking English. It echoed hypnotically in the space. “Why do you haunt a man so clearly protected from your kind?”

 

The reaction was the best Shane could’ve hoped for from the angel. He learned fast that jokes were most likely not going to land with her, so he let himself become serious for once. Shane responded in English, “I needed to get in contact with one of you.” The Demon hoped that taking a direct approach wouldn’t be too egregious. 

 

“Why should I listen to you, creature?” Her voice was slow and dangerous.

 

“My name is Shane Madej.”

 

“That doesn’t matter, creature.”

 

Shane just sighed. “I have a message for-” he stopped himself from making a jab. “for God. From Lucifer. Hell is tired, and we want this war to be over. It is in the best interest for us, and hopefully for him.”

 

The angel held no sympathy in her eyes. A hand shifted behind her. “What’s the matter, creature? Regretting your treachery?”

 

“Our numbers are limited. Every day we lose more of our kin.”

 

“It’s what you deserve.” Her face was pulled taut. 

 

Shane attempted to stand. “We don’t want to fight anymo-”

 

The angel silenced him, pulling out a rapier, and holding the tip to the Demon’s neck. The blade looked to be made of perl, glowing with an ethereal light, colours shifting within it. The point pressed into Shane’s neck ever so slightly, just enough to get blood to start spilling out at a slow rate. It forced the Demon to suck in harshly, and hold the air in. “Heaven holds no mercy for your kind.” Her wings flexed, stretching up in all their glory. 

 

The only thing Shane could do was gulp, holding his hands up in defense as his eyes stayed trained on the sword. “I don’t want to fight. Please, just tell God that Lucifer wants to reach a peace! That’s all I’m here for!” His chest heaved with each breath, while trying to remain as still as possible so the rapier didn’t find home in his neck. 

 

Wordlessly, the angel stared at Shane, judging him with narrowed eyes. When their eyes met, a connection was made. The angel could see the fear in the Demon’s eyes, and the way his hands trembled, hands that were only covered in ebony black scales, with no claws. She furrowed her eyebrows and gripped the hilt. Curious, she pressed the point in further, expecting the Demon to lash out once he knew he was going to die. He only stumbled back, tripping over the wheeled legs of his office chair and crashing to the ground with no grace. Her rapier didn’t move with him, hovering in the spot Shane was once in. Scarlet coated the tip. With a sigh, she let down her sword, pulling it’s sheath from behind her and stowing the perl blade away. Her eyes slid closed and her body relaxed. “I will tell the Heavenly Father that Lucifer wishes to negotiate with Him.” She opened her eyes to get one last look at the Demon before her. “Is there anything else you wish to say, demon?”

 

Staying down, Shane gripped his neck to keep the wound on his neck covered. “How about, I’m sorry?” His voice was small, but hopeful.

 

The angel remained straight faced, but something glinted in her eyes. “I shall deliver your message, Madej.”

 

There was a blinding flash, wind rushing past the Demon. When he could see again, the angel was gone. Papers had been scattered on the floor, and the only light in the room was the light from the dim moon. Shane kept breathing deeply, only one thing on his mind.

 

He had no reason to be there anymore. 


	8. Chapter 8 The Very Short Years and not so Inconspicuous Behaviors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is amiss. Ryan can smell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for sticking through!
> 
> Sorry if this chapter seems a little off, it was a bit of a struggle to write, trying to just get shit to work and I guess it turned out decent.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!

To say that Ryan was annoyed by Shane would be an understatement.

To say that Ryan hated Shane would be untrue.

Ryan found Shane odd. Like a relic from a different time and place. He seemed to stand apart from the world as an observer and was seemingly content with such a fate. People were an object of entertainment. At least at first.

When first meeting Shane, Ryan thought the taller man was just awkward like he didn’t know how to play life with so many characters. He was always the one watching as others played. But people change, and Shane was no exception. Something changed within Shane when Ryan asked him to slip into Brent’s place as co-host when Brent no longer felt comfortable with listening to the failures of the human condition and horrors beyond his comprehension. He was a skeptic, but an easily frightened one. Shane seemed to take the subjects lightly, with a certain joy that wasn’t creepy but wasn’t normal by any means. Execution breakfasts were hilarious, and racism was more egregious than homicide. It was blatant that something was misaligned in his brain, but he wasn’t insensitive. Ryan noted that Shane approached the stories with the same outsider perspective he did with life as if he was a laugh track. A live studio audience watching a quirky sitcom; however, his shift in attitude became noticeable to Ryan after the first 3 weeks of Shane being on the show.

It was small, but Ryan knew he wasn’t imagining the way Shane stepped a bit closer to the circles of conversation. He piped up more, with confidence that seemed to always be there, just dormant in his chest. Slowly, he involved himself and became part of the circles. He even initiated a few. Ryan felt it was a bit weird to think, but he couldn’t help but notice that Shane grew to be a bit more human, yet he still observed with an astute interest. But that was just Shane as a person. He watched and intervened when he felt it necessary. Nothing about that would ever change. Still, there was some comfort to be had by Ryan to see Shane settle into the office space after joining Unsolved. Ryan would like to think that he helped his friend. How, he wasn’t entirely sure.

Unsolved, however, lent itself to showing off some more odd habits of Shane that Ryan was otherwise blind to when he wasn’t spending so much time with him. He noticed that Sundays were always a no go for filming or anything for that matter. Not that that mattered to anyone on the crew. If Shane wanted his precious Sundays, they could always work around that. Well, there were a few times Ryan tried to push for Sunday shoots or late night beers, but Shane always deflected him with the same lackadaisical attitude that he took with everything.

Overnights were an interesting event as well. Despite Shane’s best efforts, Ryan could tell that his friend didn’t sleep those nights; though, it fooled everyone else. Shane was an expert at keeping his body almost uncannily still, making it easy to take him at face value and move on with life, but Ryan could never be swayed so easily. Ryan would be up late at night, and look over to the ‘sleeping’ Shane, and see a flash of amber before his lids slipped closed again. It was concerning, but he never seemed sleep deprived, so Ryan didn’t worry.

Another odd quirk of Shane’s that appeared more in his everyday conversations rather than Unsolved shoots in general, was his speech. He seemed to throw in slang from about every decade. Something was the bomb. He was having a gas. His penis was his nose. It was jarring but cute. In a rat sort of way. It only set Ryan off kilter for a few days before he got back on his feet, embracing and teasing Shane’s vernacular with all the ease of a fish in a still pond.

Overall, Shane was alright when he settled down. One might argue that Ryan liked Shane despite the death threats and declarations of disdain. For all of Shane’s faults and irregularities, Ryan could safely say that he enjoyed the thin man’s presence. There was no shame. He was a good friend and reliable colleague. Ryan trusted him.

That was why Ryan was currently stalking Shane.

Normally, Ryan would say that stalking was overkill, but his actions pretty much filled all the criteria. It wasn’t out of love or infatuation, it was plain, dumb, curiosity. It was late Sunday, and Shane had brushed Ryan off again, even after stating that he had no plans. Now, Ryan had no doubt that Shane thought of the shorter man as a friend, but it was uncanny how adamant he was to have no plans on Sunday. In a usual fashion, Ryan had asked some coworkers if they ever tried to hang out with the lanky man on Sunday, and they all gave him the same scenario. Shane’d laugh, brush them off, apologize for not being free, and suggest a different date. It was the last straw in Ryan’s eyes. Over 2 years of missed Sundays and he was dedicated to figuring out what the hell was so important.

The daylight hours were fairly inconspicuous. Shane’d go to the store, buy food for the week for both him and Obi, and hang at home. Ryan didn’t dare go to the lengths of peering into Shane’s apartment. He had standards.

Unfortunately, that leads to a dead end. Shane never left his apartment for the rest of the day, and Ryan was left sitting in his car, checking emails on his phone and thinking about how stupid the whole endeavor was. It was around 8 o’clock when he finally gave up, driving home for the night. It wasn’t that important, he supposed. Still, it was a note on the list of aspects about Shane that was just not normal.

When entering his own house, Ryan threw his keys into a bowl full of cards, wallets, and miscellaneous items. The imaginary weight of an eventless day hung heavy on him as he dragged his feet to his bed. He didn’t bother turning on any lights as he fell back onto the sheets and willing himself to sleep. But it never came.

Recently, Ryan’s mind had had enough of dancing around the issue of Shane, fixating itself on every oddity and quirk. It insisted that there had to be some reason for everything. Some explanation for his self-alienation. Of course, Ryan could simply admit that Shane was just different, but that just seemed to be too easy. Like a trick answer. There was just too much evidence to suggest that there was something up. As per usual, Ryan had various theories.

Theory one was one Shane would appreciate. Completely grounded within realized reality. The theory suggested that Shane was some level of Socio or Psychopath. Sadly, despite its standings in studied sciences, Shane didn’t quite slot in. Sure, he didn’t quite understand people, lacking empathy most times, but it wasn’t all the time. And it wasn’t like Shane had no moral standings. They were warped a bit, but he had morals. He would recognize when something was clearly wrong and would avoid doing it. Shane didn’t murder people because he lacked some sort of empathy breaks in his brain; yet the theory remained on the table, if only for Shane’s beliefs.

Theory two was on a similar level to theory one, observing psychology as an explanation. In the second theory, Shane simply suffered from Depersonalization Derealization Disorder. It definitely fits a bit better than Psychopathy, but it still was a stretch in Ryan’s eyes. He didn’t know what was going in Shane’s head so nothing could be solidified with the lack of qualifications Ryan had.

Theory three began to drift into Ryan’s wheelhouse. Something supernatural, like demonic shenanigans or ghosts mucking about, that messed Shane’s head as a child, altering with his brain functions. If ghosts were really just energy, it would make sense that they could interact with the human brain in a way that couldn’t be documented. And just maybe, Shane encountered a demon at some point.

Then there was theory four. It was one Ryan didn’t favor greatly, and he only considered it because of the internet. It posed that Shane was a demon. Now, Ryan didn’t believe it, despite the evidence that came with the theory. Shane seemed to be ecstatic to go to demonic places, but it also freaked Ryan out a whole bunch, and Ryan knew he took great pleasure in watching that. Shane didn’t register life in a normal way, and being a demon or any supernatural entity would lend himself to view the world around him differently. But still, there was no way Ryan could’ve known Shane for so long without noticing.

“God, what the hell am I doing?” Ryan ground out, covering his face. “I’m sitting in the dark trying to explain away my friend’s personality.” Still, he couldn’t help but note that there was something wrong. There was something about the way Shane acted that still managed to be off-putting no matter how much time Ryan spent with him. Spending more time with the gangly man seemed to make his presence even more uneasy. Surely there had to be something more. Too much evidence had accumulated over the years.

His thoughts lead Ryan into a restless sleep, sloshing his dreams about into a foggy mess that wouldn’t be remembered in the morning.

Going to work the next day didn’t pose any problems to begin with, Shane slipping into his chair a mere ten minutes after Ryan, as per the usual; however, Ryan came with a plan. Whenever Shane declared his Sundays absolutely booked, he would come back and talk about a fun time he had with some old friends. Now, Ryan was in the know, and Shane didn’t even know he was cornered.

“So,” Ryan started, schooling his face into vague disinterest. “How was your weekend?”

Out of the corner of Ryan’s eye, he could see his friend settle into his chair, yanking the lid of his laptop open to transfer some updated files over to his main computer at work. “Chill. Went out to see a couple of pals.” There it was.

Ryan resisted the urge to call him out, knowing that if he did, it would just lead to Shane deflecting the conversation into why Ryan was stalking him Sunday night. Instead, he pushed a little bit further. “Late night drinking?” It was a possibility, since Ryan left at around 8 pm, though Shane didn’t look the least bit hung over.

Shane shook his head. “Nah. We had lunch.”

Shane was lying. That much had been confirmed. So obviously, he was doing something on Sundays that he didn’t want Ryan to know about. The realization sent the shorter man’s mind into a frenzy, but he kept it contained. Instead, he kept his focus on his computer, observing various open programs and tabs all about their next trip for the new supernatural season. Most of it was a review since they had been there before. They were doing a revisit of Bobby Mackey’s, hoping to get a bit more from the area the second time around since it was a highly active normally. Shane had been excited to go back, but he was usually excited about demon episodes. They were what freaked Ryan out the most after all. Plus, they had the spirit box this time, so they could possibly pick something up on that.

“What’s the sitch?” Ryan flicked his eyes over his shoulder to see Shane peering, eyes droopy but glinting with keen interest.

“Just the next location.” It was unintentional but a drop of venom found it’s way into Ryan’s voice, still bitter about being lied to.

Shane didn’t miss a beat, deaf to Ryan’s vitriolic inflection. “Cool, cool.” His amber eyes scanned the tabs over quickly. “So Bobby Mackey’s again?” He sounded so innocent, it tempted Ryan to absolve him of any fault on his end. Of course, it was going to take more than that, the shorter man only giving a curt nod to affirm. Again, Shane was seemingly oblivious. “Cool. Welp, I’ll leave you to your own devices” The brown-haired sasquatch retreated to his area in favor of staring at his screen and type out something.

Ryan opted to ignore him and review the script one last time before they left for Bobby Mackey’s once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9 The Very Slim and not so Fair Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes crashing down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay I finally got this done!
> 
> Thank you for sitting in on another chapter! As always, critique is greatly appreciated and is encouraged along with general comments. It really keeps the motivation up and therefore, more fics for you guys!
> 
> Enjoy

It was early morning in the BuzzFeed office. The sun warmed the streets and fed what plants lingered around in window sills and rooftops. On such a glorious morning, Shane had made the grave mistake of coming in. Had he known that coming in on that Wednesday would lead to a Bergara in his face chattering about the next location, and the times they would be going, Shane would’ve slept in for a few hundred years and just disappeared from Ryan’s life.

Now, it was highly unusual for Shane to wish to disintegrate into the shadows to avoid Ryan, and normally scheduling didn’t pose any problem. Except, this time around, Ryan said that the only time they could get the investigation in was on Sunday. Of course, Shane fought ruthlessly to pose different dates, but Ryan always had an excuse: they had a video to record on that day that couldn’t be moved, Shane was producing something, Ryan was producing something, the tickets for their next investigation were booked for that week. There was always something. Missing that Sunday wasn’t really an option either. Normally, the check-ins were relatively flexible, but that Sunday was the day negotiations were supposed to go down and everyone had to be there. Everyone. Naturally, human life felt like it should interfere with his demonic necessities.

“I’m sorry to break up your ‘boys night,’ Shane, but there is no way around this!” Ryan’s tone was thoroughly fed up with Shane, snapping a bit more than their regular banter did. “It’s Sunday, and that’s final. Our flight is on Friday. Unless you want to ditch. Then I’ll just do the episode alone.”

Ryan’s no-nonsense tone was not lost to Shane, who could only sigh in resignment. “Alright, fine. I won’t leave you to flounder alone in Bobby Mackey’s. Who else is going to tell the Demons to fuck off?” He wouldn’t be doing any such thing, and Shane spent a millisecond too long dwelling on that thought. 

“Good.” Ryan kept his gaze for a little longer before settling into his chair, squirming till he sat on his tailbone just right. A moment passed with Shane trying to delve into work when Ryan addressed him again, with some levity to his voice. “I’m glad you didn’t decide to ditch.”

Shane let out a playful scoff. “You thought I really would? Now what kind of thing would I have to be to do that?”

A genuine wheeze spilled out of Ryan, resounding in Shane’s chest like it always did. “I guess I’m just surprised you managed to actually do something on Sunday. You avoid planning on that day like it would give you the plague!” From the sounds of it, Ryan was much more relaxed.

“Well,” he started thoughtfully, “Sundays are very important to my people.” Shane always made it a point to not directly lie to Ryan with few exceptions that, hopefully, weren’t too detrimental in Ryan’s eyes.

“Your people? And what kind of people is that?” Ryan was now fully facing Shane in his swivel chair, one hand propping his head up by the cheek.

Shane was almost tempted to flash him a small glimpse of his demonic features just to mess with him, but that idea was quickly stowed away. Even if it would make a killer joke, Shane didn’t want to destroy the delicate line of separation he crafted between his regular life and his demonic one. Instead, he only provided, “the spooky people. We all agree to sit in our apartments and summon Demons.” It was still funny if Shane could pat himself on the back a bit.

Ryan seemed to think so too, coughing up another laugh before spinning back to his computer, seemingly satisfied with what he got from Shane. Shane couldn’t keep himself from staring for just a second longer than he should’ve, before kicking back to his own work.

\--

“I feel better about this visit.”

“By that you mean you feel worse, right?”

“Exactly.”

The two friends stood once more before the entrance to Bobby Mackey’s Hell hole, high hopes and mounting fear practically radiating off the smaller body. Shane almost had half the mind to laugh at the sheer irrationality of Ryan’s fear but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he secured the rope again around his waist, needing no mental preparation. “Well, my miniature friend,” he addressed Ryan with a note of endearment. “Off I go into the inky abyss.” He tried to get his shoulders to shake, but it was a bit too obvious that it was fake.

Ryan scoffed, using the hand that wasn’t holding the rope to shove Shane into the room. “Get in there already!”

Chuckling ensued between the two, but Shane did saunter further in, approaching the portal to Hell. Even in the suffocating darkness of the overall room, the depths of the well seemed to be darker still, beyond any natural shade of pitch black. The well was an actual portal to Hell, but it was ancient, and not many Demons passed through anymore. It was, relatively speaking, safe for humans. No one could fall in and wind up in Hell. Black magic was needed to open it up. Though, like any door, faint sounds from the underworld could be heard through the entrance, which was way current day humans still thought the entrance was active with Demons and the such. Shane approached the hole, shouting directly down into the pit.

“HEY! Demons! Remember me? From last time? It’s ya boy,” Shane announced with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be getting so much as a whisper back. 

However, something did resound in the deep of the well. Low and near inaudible, but still very much there. It was a distant clatter, and voices that hissed and murmured far off from where Shane stood at the edge of the hole. 

“Hello?” He regretted not adding a bit more lilt to his voice, but he could’ve given more away by giving off a feel of genuine bewilderment. Shane could’ve sworn he wouldn’t hear anything. The entrance didn’t drop off at Pandemonium, but instead over the marketplace that had been established for trade. If all was going according to plan, everyone should’ve been at Pandemonium for negotiations. “Demons? If you’re there, make a sound.” He said it loud enough that he was sure whoever was on the other end would be able to hear him.

“Shut your big mouth, Shane!” Ryan called back from the other room, but another voice came through. It was the sound of dampened shouting, not enough getting through to be amplified by the close quarters of the well. Still, it was shouting.

Shane began to lean over the edge, eyes searching for something he couldn’t possibly find. “Who’s down there!?” It became harder to hide sincerity in his voice. Curiosity grew into a gnarled ball of concern that rolled at the bottom of Shane’s stomach.

Shouting cut to screams, and Shane nearly launched himself into the hole to dive down into the depths of the portal. His chest was halfway over the edge when there was a taut pull against his waist. His legs hung in the air and his hands were firmly planted against the very edge of the well, the only thing keeping him from tumbling down being the responsibility that the rope seemed to resemble. Rapid footsteps sounded behind him, and Ryan’s frantic shouting drowned out whatever noises Shane could’ve heard from Hell.

“SHANE!! JESUS CHRIST! Get out of there!!” Ryan’s arms looped up and under Shane’s pits to yank his torso back. “What on earth happened!? Why are you halfway into the weEEEEEEEHLL OH GOD!” In an instant Ryan pulled away himself, leaving Shane to unceremoniously fall to the floor.

Thoughts began to reel, the first of which was, why was Ryan screaming? Shane looked up to examine his friend’s emotions. Now at the forefront of it all was fear. Pure, unbridled terror. Ryan was a few shades too pale, and eyes five sizes too wide. He was staring Shane down with direct eye contact. So… he was scared of… him? “Ryan?” His voice was uncertain as his brain fought over what to feel.

A mere beat had passed when Ryan, in response, whipped out his water bottle. One he had gotten blessed that morning before going back into Bobby Mackey’s. “G-get out.” His voice broke, trembled, and squeaked, seemingly all at once. His hold on the bottle was unsteady, but one quaking hand was already moving to uncap the top.

Shane could only stare back at Ryan, not registering the situation. “What? And leave you by yourself? You’ll tear your hair out!” He added a weak chuckle at the end to indicate that it was a joke, however lame it was.

Ryan didn’t laugh sympathetically back, only gritting his teeth and reeling his water bottle back. Shane’s eyes flicked worriedly over to the water, knowing the potential damage that could be done with a few drops. “You aren’t fooling me.” His voice shook less as it hardened with conviction. “Now, get OUT!” Ryan swung his arm downwards, creating an arc of holy water to crash upon Shane like a wave. 

The reaction against his skin was instantaneous, smoking and bubbling up like blisters. The ache and burn seeped further into his muscles, coiling around his bones in a falsely tender touch. There was not a snowball’s chance in Hell that Shane was going to keep quiet. He screeched, curling up to try to shrink away from the pain, but it was futile. It fizzled, the water not evaporating nearly as fast as Shane wished it would. At that point, Ryan’s sounds of terror were a bit more justified in Shane’s eyes. The sudden contact with an extremely holy bit of material was bound to break any illusion his magic could’ve ever made, which meant he was balls out. Claws, horns, wings, tail, scales, chains, it was all there. There was no recovering from supernatural limbs suddenly snapping into existence in a split second.

Still, it twisted the knife a bit when Shane heard his friend’s boots, the ones that matched Shane’s, scuff against the ground as Ryan scrambled to get away. “AAAAAAAah okay! You can do this Ryan.” The Demon couldn’t muster a word to say in response to Ryan’s mumblings. “DEMON! GET OUT OF SHANE, NOW! GO BACK TO THE HELL YOU CRAWLED OUT OF! GO BACK AND NEVER RETURN TO MY FRIEND! RELEASE HIM!” The demands held more weight, striking with a new layer of pain that yanked at his chest. Shane could’ve sworn up and down that strings were trying to pull his heart out. Ryan continued. “LEAVE NOW! IN THE NAME OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY!” The sensation grew stronger, enough to make the Demon’s chest lurch forward. “IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE HOLY GHOST!” Another tug, and a grim realization vaguely formed through the haze of pain. 

Ryan was performing an exorcism. And it was working.

Struggling against the forces attempting to literally drag him down to Hell, Shane lifted his head to meet his shorter friend’s eyes, who now towered of him with a daunting disposition. His hand was outstretched, palm facing down at the rapidly weakening Demon, and his eyes seemed to be alight with a raging fire, though his face was still pensive and shaken. “Ry…,” Shane feebly called out, though it was hard to get anything out at that point.

Ryan, to his credit, didn’t waver. “DON’T CALL ME THAT, YOU… YOU… MONSTER! YOU CREATURE! LET MY FRIEND GO!”

A forceful tug. “Ryan.” Brimstone started to fill the air as the ground directly beneath Shane began to accommodate for the wishes of Ryan happily. “Just let me-”

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF HIM! RELEASE MY FRIEND AND GET THE FUCK BACK TO HELL, DEMON!”

There was too much haze for Shane to try to decipher the layers of emotions that seemed to stack on top of each other the longer Ryan spoke. All Shane knew was that he had to stop Ryan before he tore another portal in the room and shoved Shane down it. “Please, Ryan! I-I’m… not possessing… anyone… please.”

The words in Ryan’s throat died as he took in the situation fully. Emotions duked it out behind his face, eyes flickering about for too long. Almost in defeat, his hand lowered slowly, knees buckling from emotional exhaustion. “Sh-Shane?” His voice was noticeably softer. Or maybe it was just because he wasn’t shouting anymore.

Shane found the strength to sit up, though his body stung as the remnants of the holy water sizzled away. His skin had bubbled up wherever contact was made, the pale cover now an angry red that glistened in the low light. “Yeah.” His bony wings beat once in discomfort, anticipating the fall.

“I-...” Nothing came out. Neither seemed to be expecting actual sentences to be coming out of the Ryan.

“Ryan, I…” Shane absently picked at his skin, wincing here and there. “I was going to tell you, I promise I was! Just… was hoping that-”

“That I wouldn’t figure it out? Hoping you could… somehow get away with this?!” The bite was back in the shorter man’s bark, eyes glaring daggers into the concrete floor.

Shane inhaled sharply. “No… I never thought that. I just-”

“You just thought it would be totally cool to play with me? Like some sort of sick game?” The questions were rhetorical, but Shane couldn’t leave those accusations in the air unanswered.

“No! No, I wou-”

“Oh my God, you’re actually trying to defend yourself right now!?” A small smile spread on Ryan’s face, completely devoid of any joy. It just made the human look manic.

“Well, I-”

 

“No. No, you don’t get to defend yourself! There’s no argument here! God fucking… This isn’t… This isn’t banter. You…” A word caught in Ryan’s throat for a brief second before Ryan pushed it through regardless. “Monster.” He grounded it out through clenched teeth. “You lied to me.”

Desperation began to gnaw at Shane. “Ryan, you have to understand I-”

“What the fuck did I say!? You don’t get to defend yourself! You don’t have a foot to stand on. Not this time. You’ve had years worth of time to explain! You could’ve made me understand so long ago! But I have to find out like this because you…” His voice died, but from the way Ryan’s eyes burned, there was no way he was finished.

Still, a part of Shane wanted to fight, just to keep Ryan for a bit longer. “You would’ve left anyway! The moment you found out!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Ryan slammed his fist into the concrete floor. “You lied about ghosts. About demons! You looked at me every day and laughed at me! You knew they were out there and you strung me along! For what? A running gag for you to make fun of every day!? Were you just waiting to kill me and thought you’d have some fun first!?” Fear crept back in, Ryan’s eyes scanning across Shane’s body to try to keep tabs on every limb at all times. 

Shane held his hands up, heart aching when Ryan flinched away. “I’m not here to kill you… I… I never wanted to kill you.” False hope was sparking dimly in the back of his head. “If there’s one thing you can believe from me… Is that you are my friend… And I will not hurt you under any circumstances.” He lowered his claws just to try and emphasize his point. 

Ryan’s chest was heaving at that point, brows furrowed in thought or disbelief. Every emotion seemed so foreign when directed at Shane now. The human swallowed some saliva just to compose himself before breaking the sky of Shane’s world. “Go. Leave, demon. Before I make you.” Even as his voice trembled, the slowed cadence and danger of his down pitched sound made it abundantly clear that he was serious.

Shane’s muscles tensed up, wings crumpling in on themselves and his tail curling up lightly. He scanned every bit of Ryan, just to make sure he was serious, but nothing betrayed any sense that his friend was even midly joking. Still, Shane couldn’t move. The two sat together for a moment, both scared and cornered animals in the face of a growing danger or dread that loomed over the other. Shane looked at the ground, thinking that if he stared long enough, he could see the shards of their relationship. He hoped to see a fragment of Ryan’s broad, toothy smile, or a glimpse of his deep, kind eyes. Something that wasn’t ground to dust by Ryan’s final decree. 

But there was nothing to salvage, and no room for a new foundation. 

With a sorrowful sigh, Shane mustered enough magic to appease Ryan one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading, thank you for making it through, and stay healthy.
> 
> If any of you are following my other works, Broken Record will be updated next, then a couple of one-shots, then Casa again.


	10. Discontinuation Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just terrible

Hello, all matters of being that have either been following this work or have just clicked on this for some reason. I'm sorry if you were expecting more from this, but this is the end of the line. While yeah, I had plans and all that, I just feel my pacing and writing on this was not up to my newer standards, and I do not have the strength to try to power through this. I hope you understand. Thank you to everyone who gave kudos and commented or ever just touched this wretched pile of literary garbage.


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